i start to think of peforming liposuction on myself. i conjur up self-images of slicing up my own belly to cut, gather and throw away twenty-two years worth of fat. if only i could perform that. warning! self-surgery is not a safe practice!
i get so mad at my body fat that i get pumped up and inspire myself to go to the gym! my, my. i would tackle all those machines and thingamajigs with unparalleled vigor and enthusiasm. i curse all the lard and blubber in my body. i pack my sweats and ratty old shirts and stuffed it all into my dusty, almost brand-new semi-used gym bag.
i begin to feel a growing sense of panic as i look at my body in the mirror. don’t get me wrong. i weigh a 102 lbs. and i do want to gain weight. but so far the only part of my body that has accumulated substance is my stomach! it frustrates me! why can’t fats distribute themselves evenly?! i am the hapless victim of fat discrimination!
as i once agin stare at the unsightly flabs on my otherwise near-perfect body, i make a vow. i will say bye-bye to the beer belly. my eyes squint with heartfelt determination as i challenge the fats to go away. i give my non-existent abs one last venomous stare… i’ll torture you with crunches, bitch.