Mmm, Meat

I have learned a valuable lesson about how I react to stress over the long term and how it affects me physically. First, I eat only the highest fat takeout food, especially if it comes with gravy or cream dips and looks like fries or chicken wings or a cheese-and-bacon-smothered chicken burger. Second, and not surprisingly, I get fat. Okay, maybe not fat, but I am definitely fatter. Fattish. Pudgy. Rolly polly around the middley widdley. I kind of like the word zaftig, though, because it's got a sexy edge to it.

In truth, the waistbands on most of my pants have started forcing my figure into this lumpy, bisected version of itself, and if anything, having my loop electrosurgical excision procedure (LEEP) tomorrow will go a long way toward helping my burgeoning waistline from further burgeoning. I won't have to stick a hot buffalo wing dripping with jalapeño ranch dip into my yap every time my errant cervix pops into my head.

If I had ordered my present state in a restaurant it would have been listed on the menu thusly: A surprisingly generous portion of fresh abnormal cervical cells infused with the possibility of cancer are served on a bed of assorted deep-fried morsels drizzled in herbed lemon butter and served with a side of ass fat to round out your palate.

You will be pleased to note, after I found that some of my belly fat was getting pinched in the process of doing up my pants this morning, that I am presently eating a tray of vegetables and a yogurt/granola parfait for lunch.

How long does it take for one's arteries to clog from the overingestion of fatty meat products? Can they unclog on their own if I intervene early enough? Or should I just look forward to have shunts surgically implanted in my arteries to keep my heart from seizing up?

On a more pleasant note, Tamara from Awkwardly Social has inspired me through e-mail to hold a small contest. I recently posted a picture of one of my cats that showed him in his common I'm-stuck-to-the-goddamn-couch-but-acting-cool-about-it pose. It screamed lolcats at both Tamara and I, but neither of us has been able to come up with an appropriate lolcats caption.

So, to participate in the contest, you must first study the following photograph:

stuck to the couch

Next, you have to come up with a lolcats caption (of which I cannot even muster up an example, so stuck am I).

Leave your proposed captions in the comments, and whoever has the caption I like best will win something. I don't know what that something is yet, but the winner will get something. It will be cool. Hopefully.

Lolcats, ho!*

* If you're not sure what lolcats are, check out this Wikipedia article, I Can Has Cheezburger?, and Anil Dash's "Cats Can Has Grammar".


A Litany (Oh Gawd, The Hormones)