.
I'm feeling big now.
No, not on top of the world. No, not important. I mean fat as a house. One thing is for certain. Southern cooking is almost always fried, and fried with a helluva lot of grease. I mean it's either deep fried or floating on a lake of grease or fat. I have to say, it's cooking like that which will put fat on your ass fast, but the truth of the matter is, the shit tastes great. I'm not kidding. Deep fried chicken, deep fried fish, shit I'm thinking everything probably tastes better deep fried. Deep fried ice cream, deep fried vegetables, deep fried pussy even!!!
But it also slows your ass down. My father drives us to a Kentucky Fried Chicken not far into town and all of the people look like they were inflated with air before coming. Round, roly-poly human beings. Shit, I can't complain, I'm just as big. I go in and order a bucket of sixteen pieces. Yeah, I know, you think that I'm going to sit down and eat that stuff all in one day, but no. I have one every once in awhile. It should last me four days, and on the bus trip back to New York.
Oh, the bus trip back to New York. Can you believe that I schedule my damn trip down...and it's raining, and I schedule my trip back...and it's going to rain. Every other day is sunny and mild. What kind of shit is that? Can you tell me? I'm always leery about riding the bus during the snow and sleet seasons, and I equally hate being on a bus in the rain. And the problem? Because they lose control, skid and crash!
That's not true Hobobob. Oh Hell yes it is. As soon as I get home there is this news report of a bus coming from Atlantic City to New York, swerving from a collision with a tractor trailer, losing control, falling over on it's side and sliding 100 feet into a pole that slices off the top of the bus and decapitates 14. Now let me ask you: Have you ever heard of a bus accident so horrific? Fuck no! But yes, there has to be one like this while I've got to ride a bus back to New York.
Isn't that shit just peachy? So I'm sitting it out in my world of grease and fat and I'm wondering to myself, what the Hell? Rain and tragedy? I have to push it out of my mind to enjoy myself. My relatives come over and we have a blast, talking about the old days and playing around with my father. It's nice to have people that remember you from before your plight. Although I am as big as a house, which they are quick to tell me, but what more can I say. I'm a big, gigantic man right now and I'll no doubt get bigger and bigger before I slim down.
Not that I don't care, I don't. It's just that I am mentally drained with my life, and being drained there is little that's going to set off alarms in my head. Very little. Growing a little pudgier around the middle is not going to stop me from floating along through life and deal with the obstacles in my path. If weight gain is one that wants to break my unflappable resolve, let it try. I'm just going to do my thing, and when the summer comes, I'm going to really get into shape and kick some real ass. Trust me. I have the gumption to get it all done, which means I will do it.
But right now, it's just too cold and this is although my year, it is not my year. What does that shit mean? It's my year for some things, but not all things. I'm going to really succeed in some arenas of my life, and they will collide with others, improving those. I am on an upswing, and I intend to stick with it. I want to make changes, and I need to do some- thing. Life is hard and getting harder and there is little that I can do about that.
So why lay out the grand scheme of things and try to tackle every single problem before me, and instead nail one that if it falls, will fall on another, and another, knocking more and more down as I move forward. Well, this is how I am thinking after my relatives leave, talking about how fat I've become and how they remembered me as thin as a rake. I smile. I'm going back to Bojangles chicken and pick up a greasy assed sandwich and sit back and dine like a true pig.
I'm not dismayed.
Hobobob
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