funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Crevice: (n) A narrow crack, fissure, or cleft.

I guess I find it easy to be candid in my writing because I’m not going to be sitting over dinner with any of you, being curiously peered upon.

I am a fat person.

As a fat person, my body is constructed a bit differently than the average human form. I have an overhang at my stomach—what you might consider a fleshy awning.

It’s not something I enjoy revealing or find to be one of my better attributes. But those who have this overdraft certainly know that underneath is a crevice.

Oh—it is a fussy place.

In the summertime, when it gets really hot and friction sets in, you have to be careful that you don’t start making some human gravy down there. Why? Because it mingles with dirt, and you get stingy and it hurts and it’s ugly, and I’m already beginning to feel like “why did I start talking about this in the first place?”

So it is necessary to clean that crevice and make sure it stays dry. It is also a great reminder when you occasionally you don’t have the motivation to lose weight and decrease the arc of your crevice—because the problems caused by this little get-away bungalow can assuredly provide fresh energy to push away from the table.

I have a crevice.

And now you know the story of my entire underbelly.


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Chubby: (adj) plump and rounded.

Please do not feel the need to grab your thesaurus when describing me.

I am not portly.

I am not rotund.

I am not big-boned.

I don’t have a healthy appetite.

I’m fat.

And as painful as the word may be, and as many different negative associations it carries, it is still better than “chubby.”

Chubby removes all possibility of being masculine.

Babies are cute and chubby.

Furry animals are chubby.

Things that are cute are dubbed chubby so we do not have to comment on their rolls of blubber.

In the pursuit of gentle phrasing, nobody’s feelings are spared. Only the speaker feels self-righteous about placating through terminology.

I’m too old to be chubby.

I’m too manly to be chubby.

I’m too fat to be chubby.

Chubby things are acceptably fat, yet fat things are not acceptably chubby.

I don’t want to be a chub, so I certainly don’t want to be chubby.

So as painful as it may be to my ears, I am more comfortable being referred to as a “fat person” instead of a man who has “a big body to hold his big heart.”


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Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alimentary Canal: (n) the entire passage along which food passes through the body, including esophagus, stomach and intestines.

So much like life.

That which kisses the lips and titillates the taste buds, slides easily down the throat, gains acid in the stomach, is transformed into waste and often ends up looking like crap.

It is difficult for me, as a fat person, to focus on the more negative–and may I say, final–prospects of overeating.

I am completely engrossed in the licking of my lips and the taste buds, and even somewhat intrigued by the swallowing–but avoid the repercussions of digestion, fat accumulation and expulsion.

The alimentary canal is certainly a slippery slope, as it were: everything is heading downhill.

Some people might consider this negative.

Yet maybe it’s a step of maturity–learning to release smaller snowballs at the top of the mountain so as not to create an avalanche.



Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Afloat: (adv) floating in water, not sinking

There is one great advantage to being a fat dude (other than the joy you achieve in chomping your way to the status quo…) When I go into the deep end of a pool, I am able to stand without needing to tread waterand float.

Matter of fact, one day I was doing just that and a guy swimming nearby me paused and stared at me in a combination of wonder and horror, and finally worked up the courage to ask, “How are you doing that?”

Feeling a bit of mischief in my heart, I replied, “Sometimes I get tired of walking on top of the water and I ease down to rest.”

The humor escaped him.

The reason I stay afloat is because I have enough lard stored in my tissue  that it creates a buoyancy which lifts me up in the current. Now, I am not suggesting that this is adequate motivation for risking the perils of obesity. But there is something wonderful about finding a way to be afloat without having to constantly struggle.

Matter of fact, I’ve tried to duplicate the sensation in other areas of my life:

  • With my family. I have raised my sons, and now it’s up to them to figure out what parts of what I shared were valuable and what was crap. I should relax.
  • With the people I meet. I can’t judge them, change them or ignore them. So instead, I will play a game and find ways love them.
  • With my finance. Great ideas offer the possibility of work, which if performed excellently, normally renders financial gain.
  • And with my art. Write it, sing it, share it, live it, believe it and leave the rest to the whim of God.

The best way to “stay afloat” is to be chubby with good cheer, instead of lean and mean … with despair.