Saturday, April 3, 2010
I was laying in “the womb” contemplating how I would top last Easters post, “A Crack in the Eggs,” when I felt my heart racing. No, not from angst. It was the foot long sub I just inhaled prior to laying down. I guess it’s alot to ax your body to digest 3,000 calories just in time for a mid-day siesta but….shouldn’t it be use to me ask for such things by now? Yes, on this bright sunny day whilst everyone in the free world was out enjoying Mother Nature, I was in fact binge eating and napping. My commitment is such that I don’t take time off for holidays. I couldn’t sleep, so I started thinking about how angry I was that Subway is no longer offering your pick of $5 Foot longs. Imagine stepping up to the register with exact change (a dead giveaway that I spend far too much time there) only to be axed for a $1.50 more. Guess it’s back to the dolla menu and Ronaldo McDonald. The stress of the day left me wondering what I had to look forward to aside from McNuggets comprised of 37 ingredients sure to kill me. Then it hit me…tomorrow is the day when Jesus rose… I too shall rise….right off my fat ass! Not as prophetic but an effort all the same. So I got out of bed around 3pm and the womb was without it’s savior….
I failed to mention, whilst laying in the womb digesting and meal planning, I was also reading the 12 Steps of Over Eaters Anonymous…no lie. You know how sometimes you read something and it jumps right off the page bcs you feel like it’s speaking to you? That was pretty much the entire book…..you had me at hello kinda thing. However comma, there was one line that made me feel like an all out addict….”Do you dream of how perfect your life would be as a thin person whilst in the process over eating?” Ummmm yeah…. it goes something like….Me as a size 0, (bcs there’s always enough of that size left on the rack) with mustard & ketsup on my face, shagging Brad Pitt whilst explaining to my husband he must have known this day was coming when I broke it off with Little Debbie. Something like that. It went on to talk about the guilt associated with post-binge eating. That’s where the fried chicken breast split….I do not own that emotion. So I decided to focus on that little Fuckin Crack Rabbit who would be appearing on my door step in less than 24 hours. Luckily, “New Me Monday” comes after “Hide the candy Sunday.” Timing is everything for addicts.
Here’s my take on Easter:
1. Whilst a Cadbury Egg is somewhat lacking in protein, it goes “right nice” (southern vernacular) with bacon. You should try it. Be thankful…the fake yoke is saving you from swallowing chicken menstruation. Are we clear on my thoughts about eggs? I think so.
2. Jelly Beans are laced with crack. It’s a fact. Have you ever found yourself, over the age of 30, digging for jelly beans between layers of fake grass only to be pissed off when you couldn’t find any? That’s how Ray Ray Jenkins feels when he’s lookin for a hit. Have you ever eaten just one? Ray Ray neitha. And Ray Ray is white so don’t go there. White people hit the pipe too. Crack is after all and equal opportunity offender.
3. Peeps. What the fuck are Peeps? Refined Sugar Rabbits laced with bad food coloring. That’s what they are. If you want to be one of my “peeps” you gotta come harder than marshmallow melt in your mouth bullshit. No thanks. I prefer chocolate eggs dripping in fake yoke and biting appendages off unsuspecting sugar creatures in pretty boxes. I have no use for these Peeps. None at all.
Let this serve as a warning to the Easter Bunny (who isn’t real by the way….stop reading my blog crumb snatchers….that’ll serve ya right!)…if you come to my house…don’t be hidin shit. Nothing pisses a fatty off more than a scavenger hunt for sweets. I can carry my ass to K-mart and get everything I need without the extra work, thank you. However comma, I have a sniffer of canine proportion… so don’t mess with me. If there’s chocolate in this house I’ll find it. Just ask my husband. Each trip to the grocery store brings hope of goodies he’ll never eat. I “say” they are for him….that simply means he must beat me to the punch. I’m fast and motivated. He’s…a guy. Need a say more. His lips have yet to touch a Krispy Kreme. Shoulda married a skinny girl. I have no interest in your sob stories.
Before I close out this tirade I have one question…who turned Easter into bunnies and candy when it’s suppose to be about Jesus rising from the grave to save us? *pause for random sign of the cross* Hallmark takes every opportunity to jump in and commercialize any holiday they can get their hands on? Do any of us think Jesus would be proud to see the Easter Bunny waving at us from the bypass whilst encouraging us to buy over-priced foot long subs? Shameful. Instead of painting eggs and hiding baskets from future SIF, how about explaining the true meaning of Easter over a nice meal. Jesus loves fat people and he knows we gotta eat. He also knows we do not have the cardiovascular stamina to find hidden sweets and fight small children for chocolate. If you are not a Christian….I aint mad at ya but DAMN…stop celebrating our holidays! Watching children in burkas sit on Santa’s lap and pose with the Easter Bunny is beyond disturbing. If you don’t believe in Jesus I hereby declare no ham, no bunnies and no candy until Monday at 4pm…when I fall off the wagon and join you. Happy Easter!