October 23, 2009 - Breakfast
Great Caesar's ghost, I said to my wife. I carefully looked myself over in the mirror. I'm down fifty with a hundred to go and my body looks like World War I. Like a vacated trench. Like a soldier should return to it years later and walk along it rueful of his lost innocence. I'm a toad-skin bag of rotten oysters.
You're very lumpy, she said, with affection.
The way to tighten loose skin is to lose all the weight, obtaining an infinitesimally small BMI; or to rub cocoa butter into the marks, or any number of other creams; or to bathe in colloidal hypergel; or to swallow nine pounds of grapes in six hours; or to pray to St. Theresa every day before breakfast; or to avoid bowel movements for three weeks; or to pass through a kiln. Of course there's always the modern panacea of surgery. When I think of our medical industry I imagine two cats in white coats with stethoscopes and a sign that reads "Surgererical Inturvenchunz Purr-formed."
"Right this way, fatty," says Nurse Kitten. "And keep your paws to yourself."
Well I never.
Now off to America for the weekend, to the brother, the mother, and world. We're building Mom a greenhouse. Pack a flask.
| Food | Qty | Calories |
|---|---|---|
| Cereal, Nature's Path Organic Heritage, 3/4 c. | 1.3 | 160 |
| Cereal, fibrous, 2/3 cup | 1.5 | 120 |
| Milk, 1 percent, 1 c. | 120 | |
| Total | 400 |
Weight: 306.5 lbs