Let's eat till it hurts!

My favorite quick fix, eating. Thanksgiving is when you eat till you might throw up, that's what's expected. I do what's expected when it means that I can check out. If I can somehow turn this mind off with a feeling so wonderful that food can give me, I eat. I was told to join the clean plate club. I'm a member. When I was a kid I'd eat anything. I remember my best friends mom complaining to her son, "Why can't you be more like Duke? He eats what ever is put in front of him."

I tried the God thing but it's not as quick as homemade apple pie with whipped cream and ice cream. God wants delayed gratification, pie just wants you to open your mouth and do nothing more than enjoy.

I'm also very vain. I want to look good. It sucks being vain and fat at the same time; it's like having good taste and being poor. If you're vain and you like to eat then you are most likely familiar with fasting, dieting, weight watcher-ing and all the other crap we do to look good. I've familiarized my self with techniques designed to tame the beast; I've starved that mother fucker and he was not pleased!

I went 10 months with no sugar or flour. I considered the mexican pizza from taco bell to be a corn tortilla (you've got to cheat a little if you are going to eat to be skinny). 10 months the beast resided dormant within my gut, but he was hungry. We were invited to a wedding in Tiburon; we took the fairy. Waiting for the fairy I said,"fuck it!" These are the two words before any relapse. I didn't care, I was hungry and I looked like an underwear model.

I started with the large clam chowder in a large bread bowl. The bread was so good when it touched the lips! I ate every bit of it. The fairy came and I had cokes and candy during the trip. Once at the wedding I proceeded to eat for the next three hours straight. I was hungry.

While waiting for our fairy I thought I was going to be sick. I went to the bathroom. I sat on toilet and my entire body turned white and cold sweat poured down my forehead. This is what happens when the body thinks it's dying. "Please God don't let me puke, please don't let me puke." I'm very religious when I'm in a jam. My stomach was rapidly reaching the boiling point, I beyond the point of no return something was going to happen. "Please God!"

Diarrhea and puke at the same time with cold sweats. Lesley's banging on the door telling me we're going to miss the fairy and I'm narrowly escaping death. I felt much better after. We took a cab home and I slept like a baby.

I was off the wagon and food was once again my close companion and off I went on one more journey to fatdom.