This is why I'm fat

I've decided to revive this blog because I was thinking about all the ways society conspires to make me fat. The latest obsession is with the Ramen Burger.

This new concoction was created in Brooklyn and had it's first showing at Smorgasburg August 3rd, 2013. What happened was a frenzy of people waiting in line to buy the newest food sensation (the last one being the Cronut).

This new food Frankenstein will definitely make me fat because it combines two of my favourite food items into one delicious (I hope) morsel. I hope they have them available in Toronto soon. I also hope I can burn off the calories somehow.

Fat Clothes for Fat Friends!

Very recently, I have managed to escape my dreaded size 38 fat pants, and now I'm at a more respectable size 34. It was a joyful accomplishment, but I faced the same dilemma as my kindred spirit Brian Alvarez. What would I do with all of my fat clothes?

I realized that despite my contempt for Brian Alvarez, he did what any normal person would do with his fat clothes. That is why I offered to give away my fat clothes to my fat friends in a previous blog post. My offer of generosity went unanswered... or so I thought. Lurking quietly in the shadows was a friend of mine who reluctantly coveted my fat clothes. My friend Mason Applesmith (names have been changed to protect the obesely innocent) bravely offered to take away my fat clothes.

Many years ago, Mason was kind enough to open up his condo gym to twice a week workout. He was one of the brave souls that took to long distance running the same year as I did. We would slave away at bulking up our flabby bodies. Little did we know that 10 years later, we would envy our flabby physiques of yesterday. You see, the stresses of career and married life have ravaged our bodies. We are now pot-bellied men staring into the headlights of middle age.

Mason believes that my fat pants will be his wake-up call to hit the gym once more. I hope this is the case. I hope that one day soon, he himself with be giving away his fat clothes to his fat friends! Thus the torch will be continuously passed on the fatter generations...

Prince Edward County 2011

We're all about biking, and drinking, and eating.

That's generally what we do, and not always in that order generally combined in one form or another.

Below is a possible/draft route map for Day One of our upcoming trip to the Prince Edward County area to go booze up in classy style, at vineyards. Starting and ending in Bloomfield, should be a nice ride, challenging but not deadly, and plenty of "grape juice" along the way. If we were to ride this route straight without stopping it would take us a few hours. Now when we roll in stops, meandering and the inevitable getting lost-ness to happen...well it's a good thing we don't need to be back in Bloomfield until later.

Day Two will consist of something completely different, and should include a trip to the Barley Days Brewery in Picton, that would make me smile.

I really absolutely HATE google's mapping functions when trying to layout a path. It's terrible.


View PEC Route 1 in a larger map

Does anybody want my fat clothes?

Hello friend. It's been a while since I've blogged on here. I wanted to say that things are going well. So well that I have several pairs of pants that fall off the waist, much like they show on the weight loss commercials. I've gone from wearing size 38 pants to size 34. I'm probably aiming to drop down to 32, but we'll see what happens.

This is all find and dandy... except that I have these giant pants in my closet and I want to give them away. While I'm running around in my slim fit size 34 pants, I want to share my joy by giving away my giant pants. Are you a size 38? Do you want these pants? Let me know.

A good diet in theory

Just replace Jimmy Kimmel with a lunch container et voila!

Happy St. Patty's Day

Go get some tasty tasty calories.

A diet I can understand

Let's face it, most diets are usually one or more of a few things:

A) fads that are extraordinarily stupid and make no sense
B) harmful and stupid
C) stupid
D) all of the above

Simply opting for a more balanced diet with a more active lifestyle should suffice. The number on the scale matters less than most would think unless you're going over an edge is one direction or the other. When I'm 190 and my shirts are tight across the shoulders: no problem. When I'm 190 and the buttons are popping off my pants: PROBLEM!

It's where and what the weight is that matters most. So make the most of it.

Then Speedster brought this to my attention. I salute you Mr. Wilson.

Now it's simple enough: drink beer for Lent. Now I gave up giving up things for lent ages ago. Can't say I'm devout anything other than an agnostic beer drinker. Devoted only to the Bavarian Purity Law of 1516.

I can't go the full-on atheist route for one very humble reason: There's got to be something out there more powerful than humans because let's face it, if we're the epitome of sentience in the universe we're a pretty sad example. History is loaded with moments exemplifying how stupid we are. Ridiculous lemon water detox diets included.

Religion aside, I commend Wilson's rational approach and proliferating the knowledge that monks are awesome brewers. Because they are, Belgium is full of them and has been for centuries. Though this is a mixture of much of the aforementioned troubles diets can be. I can only imagine what shade of blue his liver will be by the end.

Regardless, this brave soul is undertaking a Lenten journey of understanding. His liver will tell the tale.

I give up

Recently, I was sweating profusely in hot yoga, and while staring at my reflection, it occurred to me that I can live with this. By "this", I was referring to my body: the back fat, the birdlike chest, the soft sausage arms, the knocked knees covered in scars.
I have been skinnier in my life, but it required a level of dietary vigilance and/or physical exertion that took my attention away from enjoying the fruits of my labour. Skinny came hand-in-hand with an unrelenting obsession with food, constant monitoring of my hunger level, and loads of laundry.
It makes sense to simply accept my body as is, given that I exercise a few times a week, I eat healthy, and my body has not betrayed me with malfunction or disease in any major way. And it's a relief not to be my own worst enemy, every morning.
Of course, admitting a problem is not the end of it. I may be coaxed back into borderline anorexia by being called "fatty" or by fluorescent lighting in a swimsuit fitting room. In the meantime, I will enjoy this unfamiliar acceptance of my body, until one of my fellow Thinspiration XXL becomes enviably thin, and dissatisfaction with my body rears its ugly head.