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Being the incredibly (possibly too) caring person that I am...

by Paul Jan 27, 2006 10:22
I've noticed an increase in chronic debilitating conditions among the American public of late. When I was a kid, like one kid in the entire school had an inhaler; and that was because he didn't have any lungs. That's right, only gills. His name was Gill too, coincidentally. These days however, I swear every second or third person I talk to is either diabetic, or has a "mild" case of asthma.

For a while I was thinking "Wow, maybe our global warming and various methods of fucking up the planet is starting to catch up with everyone and we're all catching a case of bad karma." But then I thought, "How come I'm not Type A diabetic with a mild case of the asthma?" I am starting to feel left out.

Left out of the buffet line! Are you sure it's asthma America? Even a mild case? I'm thinking it's not a mild case of asthma, but a mild case of the fat. You don't have a diabetic condition, you have a donut addiction. No offense intended to any of the legitimate sufferers of either affliction, but you too can go the H-E double hockey sticks outside and walk your lazy ass around for a while. While you're at it, stop drinking 3 redbulls and a double mocha per day, and try getting some much needed rest. Filling your fat smoker's lungs with air is tiring you out, and you need all the sleep you can get to combat the energy it takes to breath. The same energy in turn tires you out, and the cycle repeats.

I'm sorry, I'm angry. It's not your fault. Wait I'm getting a text message... yes... yes it is your fault. Now get it together porky.
I am currently listening to: MF Doom - MM Food

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Blogs | P Funk's Journal of Warm Fuzzy Feelings

I know you're all watching our videos...

by Paul Feb 22, 2005 08:55

so it should be pretty obvious by now that John and I are both total fat-asses. I really want to do something about it, but it's genetic. I have a glandular problem. Also I have no self esteem. I can't help it. Leave me alone because I can't lose weight. Alright, I'll do it! With that hurdle cleared, I started my diet with orange juice and string cheese. I noticed a couple things. First, string cheese has to be the stupidest food on the face of the earth. Cheese does not come pre-strung, so somewhere Malaysian children are slaving away to string this cheese. Maybe in Malaysia, I just don't know.

Anyway, who eats string cheese by peeling off strings of it at a time? Does it strike anyone else as weird that a piece of food that small requires 2 hands to eat? I mean christ, who's stopping you from taking a bite out of the whole thing? I'll tell you who... wait, no I won't. I just don't know. With that being said, I suggest you get some string cheese, and eat it in a mirror. Pay attention to how ridiculous a human adult looks, consuming a piece of cheese by peeling down strings of it off a larger cylinder of cheese. I guarantee after watching yourself eat cheese on a string by string basis, you will agree with me.

Moving on. I then shook my individually sized container of orange juice, wherein I noted that I was doing this weird wrist-action, twisty shake job on it. Who shakes containers of liquid like this? Is the permeation of male masturbation imagery in our society so perverse that we cannot shake containers in a jerk-off motion? There's nothing to be ashamed of. Even Intellectual Ape has to rub one out once in a while. Clearly this method of shaking is more effective. At this juncture, I set out to establish a new and cool shaking method. I decided to use the maraca rattle method. If you've ever seen any good fat maraca guys, they have this little rhythmic wrist flick, WHILE they're doing the whole, up-and-down arm motion. Not only is it a super effective shake method, but it makes orange juice "fun". We all need fun food. If you've stopped peeling string cheese like I have, all that creative food consumption has to go somewhere.

Before I forget,

I'm currently losing weight by: thinking thin.
I am listening to: a Linkin Park song; because I think upper class white kids singing to me about how rough life is, is extremely poignant and meaningful.
I've tried so hard, and come so far; in the end, it doesn't even matter because nobody was taking my position seriously to begin with. Hey, live and learn.

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Blogs | P Funk's Journal of Warm Fuzzy Feelings

 


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