Two All Beef Patties and a Side of Cheesy Thighs

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"My therapist told me the way to achieve true inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I have finished two bags of M&M’s and a chocolate cake. I feel better already." 

-Dave Barry

"Carbs, oh carbs, how I love thee. Let me count the waist."

-Kenneth Goorabian

Dear Seventeen Magazine,

I have bad skin, I’m frustrated with chubbiness and can never decide what to wear. Oh, and I have too many shoes. What can I do? 

p.s. I’m a 63-year-old man who has a teenage girl living inside me.

Fat & Frumpy

Dear F&F,

I have three tips that are sure to help.

1. Clearasil

2. Get off the couch

3. That’s why God made leggings and over-sized t-shirts

4. Send me all unwanted footwear

Why do I go kicking and screaming into old age? When does the madness end?

Today, while my wife and I were walking complaining about age and desire to lose weight, a woman chugging up the hill the other way said to my wife, and I paraphrase, “Your legs look great. You’re my ideal.”

Considering all she sees in the mirror are cheesy thighs and crepey skin, you can imagine her reaction. Beaming is the word. She could live on that compliment for weeks.

So, when you’re feeling less than perfect, just remember: Your nightmare is someone else’s dream. 

K.G.

Howard, Brian and Me

Wash four distinct and separate times, using lots of

lather each time from individual bars of soap.

-Howard Hughes

The only reason I'd ever get a sex change operation is

to see what it's like to be right all the time.

-Brian Wilson

It just amazes me that in this day and age one can live

virtually (pun intended) free of any interference from the outside world.

Modern technology is so cool.

-K. Goorabian

Got a new computer today. The old one was getting too slow and as a writer or porn star, you’re only as good as your tools. Am I right? I also deposited a check from my iPhone for the first time today. I consider it fortunate that I hadn’t discovered these modern conveniences earlier.  Having an itty-bitty (my wife is shaking her head) problem with anxiety, had I been brave enough to explore these new technological marvels on my own I surely would still be hiding in my man-cave, shades drawn, marathon binging America’s Next Top Model with a Little Caesar’s pepperoni pizza (ordered on-line of course) perched precariously on my chubby little belly.

Ah, but fate in the form of a lovey lassie (wife, not the dog) intervened, which is a good thing. My therapist said I was about a year away from becoming a less rich and infinitely less interesting Howard Hughes. I disagreed. After all, I cut my nails and hair on a regular basis and had never made a bad B-Movie. In fact, I considered myself more of a better looking, though not even close to as talented and slightly less crazy Brian Wilson kinda guy. I even briefly flirted with the idea of having artificial grass installed under my computer desk. Sand is way too messy and eventually ends up in the most irritating and embarrassing places. Maybe this is what drove Brian crazy. Just a thought.

Anxiety isn’t so bad though. Through the years it’s kept me from doing a lot of stupid things; like buying a new BMW I probably wouldn’t drive with my first royalty check. Although, having a vintage Beemer with no miles on it might fetch a few dollars. I have enough things I don’t use in the garage already.

I am, thanks to my wife, coming around. I now have a part-time job. I’ve also said goodbye to my therapist, but cling doggedly to my psychiatrist due to the fact she has my best interests at heart and is in control of the prescription pad. She’s a pretty good doctor. Well, except for making me take a drug test because of my incessant use of the word “eat” when talking about my meds. Doesn’t everyone eat their pills? Oh well, I am a product of the ‘60s. I blame the culture. I still get misty eyed when I see a pair of bell bottoms.

Life is good. My waistline is way less than my age, and I have a fabulous wife. All in all, I’m grateful to just be alive and not playing in a country band.

Yet.

K.G.

Skinny Jeans, Macramé and Gummy Worms

I’m kind of excited and anxious this morning. This isn't

too surprising. After all, it’s my first day on the new job, and I haven’t worked in quite a while. Okay, it’s been 5 or 6 years, but who’s counting? A power trio of mental health professionals (therapist, psychiatrist and wife) felt it was necessary for me to get out of the house on a regular basis.

Reasons included:

Pasty complexion due to lack of exposure to the sun made it possible for me to successfully hide from guests by lying on the bathroom floor, thus blending in with snow white tile.  

I had run out of things to say to the chair, the lamp, and the empty macramé plant hanger on the back porch, which was only spoken to on the rare occasion when the lamp and chair were being pissy. I mean, come on, I’m not crazy.

Thirdly, they suggested that meeting strange new people would give me ample material for my writing, which definitely struck a chord. I believe it was a B♭, but don’t take that to the bank. I’m a C♯ kinda guy for sure.

After spending a couple of hours deciding on what to wear, I went with a new pair of skinny jeans, a mandatory “collared” black Polo shirt (does anyone that’s not a golfer look good in these? I think not) and black Converse sneakers. What I call business snazz-ual.

For lunch I chose a simple roasted chicken sandwich on sourdough (I know it’s not healthy, but wheat bread tastes like the cardboard tube from a roll of toilet paper), an orange, and raw almonds (wife snuck in), an individual-sized package of Pringles (I snuck in), a granola bar, and a bottle of water. I wanted to bring a bag of sour gummy worms to share with the other ki… eh… my coworkers, but wife vetoed that; along with dropping me off at the front door. Her reason being all the other employees drove themselves and they might tease me if they saw her, but I think she’s just too lazy to get up.

I must admit it feels pretty good to have somewhere to go in the morning besides the bathroom. And all the new things I have to remember like my locker combination and what time lunch is and stuff will keep my brain sharp. Best of all, my boss said she might let me drive a forklift.

Well, not right away, but I do get to walk in front with the two colored flags like the airport guys.  But I will someday drive the forklift. A guy has to have goals.

K.G.