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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Chew: (v) to bite and work (food) in the mouth with the teeth

We often insert the words “good” or “bad” in front of “idea” before we actually consider the merits or the dangers.

People just say, “That’s a good idea!”

Or they dismiss any excitement in the air and proclaim it “a bad idea.”

Here is the breakdown of the word “idea:”


Ideas come and go.

To find out if they’re good, we have to ask ourselves one question: will we faithfully pursue this concept without prejudice to a fair conclusion?

If we’re willing to do that, we’ll find out immediately if the idea we thought was good is workable. And we have to be honest–if it’s not workable, it’s no longer a good idea. And if it’s not a good idea, it’s no longer an idea anymore and should not be brought up again.

One day I read an article which suggested that digestion, and even consuming less food, could be better achieved by chewing each mouthful at least twenty times.

This seemed reasonable to me.

So the next time I sat down at my meal and I placed the food in my mouth, I counted how many times I chewed it. My natural inclination was to stop at about seven. If it was a piece of steak, maybe eleven. But chewing food twenty times makes it so mushy and meaningless that you want to spit it out instead of swallow it. (Maybe that’s the way you lose weight. Instead of swallowing the mess in your mouth, you expel it–therefore relieving yourself of the calories.)

Chewing is a necessary process so that we don’t choke on the food we so eagerly want to consume.

Over-chewing takes away all the pleasure of eating and enjoying slurping up our treats.

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Broth: (n) soup consisting of meat or vegetable chunks, and often rice, cooked in stock.

Although it may seem bewildering, it is one of my fondest memories.

I was in the midst of one of my festering needs to lose weight and had fasted for about a day-and-a-half (though at the time I would have insisted it was two).Dictionary B

I was hungry.

You see, as a fat man, I never allow myself to become hungry. The presence of food is the ushering in of appetite.

I’ve never been able to consider the consumption of calories to be nutrition for survival, but rather, a pleasure I grant myself in large quantities, to confirm that I have the power to relish what is available.

Bluntly, I’m never starved. I just eat.

On this particular occasion, though, I actually gained the pangs, the passion and the purpose to receive food.

My body was growing weaker and weaker, and threatened to shut down in protest over my abstinence from meals.

Yet there was a thirty-minute passage of time when I felt more alive than I had ever felt before. I needed something–and was fully aware that I was about to receive it.

I was really famished.

I sensed a yearning rather than a burning.

And when I sat down at the end of that half-an-hour, to steaming broth with floating pieces of carrot and rice, smelling of chicken, I will tell you it was probably the most delicious delicacy I have ever devoured.

It had fragrance, taste and promise.

I’ve often wondered why I can’t return to that same fervency of appreciation.

Because on that day, a bowl of broth tasted to me like heavenly manna.

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Bough: (n) main branch of a tree.

I grew up as a fat boy in a season when the word “obese” was never used, but instead, I was viewed as “pleasingly plump.”Dictionary B

It never even occurred to me to lose weight.

There was sufficient ridicule to warrant such a maneuver, but I was always told that the ones who critiqued my girth were just “jealous about how strong I was.”

There are disadvantages in being a rotund ten-year-old. One of those was the fact that climbing a tree was a Herculean feat. There was certainly a lot of butt to get up the bark.

And then, to my disappointment, while ascending an elm tree I discovered that sitting on the first bough caused it to crack, break and I tumbled to earth. It is embarrassing to be snubbed by a member of the forest.

So I was delighted when I came upon a large oak tree with low-hanging boughs, making it easy for me to ascend–thick and strong enough to hold the weight of my backside.

I was so enthralled with the accomplishment that I invited all my friends to come and climb this oak tree with me. Unfortunately, when my other friends climbed up and sat on the first bough and I ascended to join them, my weight mingled with theirs, broke it–and I was therefore blamed for the “snappage.”

I do love boughs.

But I also understand that “when the bough breaks” … the big boy will fall.


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dictionary with letter A

Anathema: (n) something or someone which one vehemently dislikes.

I wonder if that’s what’s necessary? I mean, I’m curious if there is a requirement for a certain amount of vehemence, anger, intensity and frustration to well up in the human soul before we actually decide to change anything.

Let’s take the old-fashioned word repentance.

It’s not old-fashioned because it’s out-dated. but like many valuable words, it’s lost some of the frequency of use because it’s not quite as pleasant to current thinking.

But I’m not sure repentance is possible until we become totally disgusted with where we are. In other words:

  • Will racism ever leave our world until it becomes anathema to our lives and even our breathing?
  • Can I lose weight without, in some way, shape or form, despising my way, shape and form?
  • Do we ever become free of our addictions until we nearly literally vomit them from our existence?

Are there really only two gears in the human vehicle–drive and reverse?

I don’t know.

But without anger and protests, most wars tend to go on indefinitely. Without some teaching of abstinence, promiscuity, disease and unwanted pregnancy begin to creep into society.

And without constantly reminding ourselves of our ancestors owning people as slaves, we just might forget to think about how we’re enslaving people today.

What is an anathema?

It is whatever we decide to do that takes away the power of other folks to do what they decide.

Yes, I guess that’s worth a few minutes … of uncomfortable reflection.


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