It's that time!!!
Don't be misled by the title. The multiple exclamation marks may lead one to believe that I'm implying I'm about to do something awesome or fun. Unfortunately not so. It's that time where we suck it up, attempt to exercise self control, and go on a diet. Feck.....
Erica and I have officially declared ourselves fat in accordance with subjective personal law. The law dictates that upon such time where a person is unable to comfortably wear their favourite pair of non-stretchy pants, and where post dining discomfort can only be relieved by a pair of loose fitting track pants, the said person is legally obliged to declare themselves fat and as such subject to either a period of gastronomic abstinence or public humiliation.
With a tearful salute to our close friend Sir Carbs, we toasted each other the best of luck last night with A&W Root Beer Floats. For today begins our soup diet (once again) for a week. Then we shall break for our weekend reprieve, and continue again come the Monday. And so the journey for us begins into my land of strange soupy concoctions of which I may take it upon myself to document.
My thin unhealthy soups which attempt to offer taste without nourishment. Hopefully come a fortnight from now, it will all have been worth it. To hopefully have lost our pounds without having lost our minds.
To become a fatty,
Is the worse kind of curse
Some may say different,
But know there's nothing worse
A dumpling, a porker,
Or just a fattycake
We know there's no alibi,
For our rotund physical state
When loose fitted dresses,
Or trackpants are our friend
We all know its time,
To start on a diet again
Farewell Rice and Pasta,
Goodbye my lush roasted duck
I know it's not your fault,
But I can't help but go FU.... I mean.... oh darn.
Erica and I have officially declared ourselves fat in accordance with subjective personal law. The law dictates that upon such time where a person is unable to comfortably wear their favourite pair of non-stretchy pants, and where post dining discomfort can only be relieved by a pair of loose fitting track pants, the said person is legally obliged to declare themselves fat and as such subject to either a period of gastronomic abstinence or public humiliation.
With a tearful salute to our close friend Sir Carbs, we toasted each other the best of luck last night with A&W Root Beer Floats. For today begins our soup diet (once again) for a week. Then we shall break for our weekend reprieve, and continue again come the Monday. And so the journey for us begins into my land of strange soupy concoctions of which I may take it upon myself to document.
My thin unhealthy soups which attempt to offer taste without nourishment. Hopefully come a fortnight from now, it will all have been worth it. To hopefully have lost our pounds without having lost our minds.
To become a fatty,
Is the worse kind of curse
Some may say different,
But know there's nothing worse
A dumpling, a porker,
Or just a fattycake
We know there's no alibi,
For our rotund physical state
When loose fitted dresses,
Or trackpants are our friend
We all know its time,
To start on a diet again
Farewell Rice and Pasta,
Goodbye my lush roasted duck
I know it's not your fault,
But I can't help but go FU.... I mean.... oh darn.