| || ||1||2||3||4||5|
|27||28|| || || || || |
[ Previous entry: Absolution. ]
[ Next entry: The Malady. ]
Straight from the Horse's Mouth
Retroactive Blog whose actual date of writing was on February 11, 2005.
Earlier on in the week, while I thought it a little on the disconcerting side that I seem to possess the appetite of your average human male coupled with the stomach lining of a goat, it was an oddity which I had come to take in stride, bizarre as the images may be which the idea may evoke. After this evening however, I find that I may very well have to revise that original opinion which I had of myself. I now believe that instead of having an appetite equal to that of an average human male, that I have an appetite akin to that of your average equine horse, not pony, horse, not a miniature horse either, like the kinds which more affluent households keep in their mansions like lap dogs but a full grown horse perhaps like those draft horses with feathered fetlocks and hooves the size of elephant feet who pull wagons filled with beer or ale in the far off regions of Europe where ten wheeled trailers would have a bit of difficulty lumbering through green hills (that is if those horses can consume two pounds worth of blueberry cheesecake in a span of two days, if not, I may have to rectify my second opinion yet again, as I would be doing the horse an injustice).
Putting things in perspective, I now see that there was more than vanity involved when I turned pesco vegetarian. No, my turning away from carbohydrates and barbequed pork had more to do with it than health reasons, or fitness issues, or any other concerns which may be raised regarding my appearance, relevant as they may have been. Circumstances are now leading me to believe that it was God's foresight which caused me to change my ways, for if I have kept on as I used to over the course of the last two years, I probably (or most likely, certainly) would have a girth the size of the earth's circumference to contend with by now, even the Goodyear blimp would be nothing but a blip on the radar in comparison to the worldwide crisis which my anticipated size would've caused, for what then would God have done with a human being larger than the whole planet? It would have been a direct violation of the phi. So no nutrisionist or dietian would've been able to foresee God's plan, or foil it for that matter.
Taking into consideration my cheesecake intake of the past few days, I do wonder though if God's plan includes buying shares in the blueberry cheesecake industry.
Neither would it be explainable from the point of view of most rational individuals how I often wish to hammer into our cook with a spatula or maybe with a rolling pin the message that I would rather go around with holes in my jeans, shirts, shoes, even my underwear then scrimp on food whenever she comes to the dining table to ruin my dinner by regaling me with horror and suspense stories of how pricy food is in the market. How can I possibly pummel the idea into her head that never will I give up my salmon belly even if salmon is declared an endangered species by the Greenpeace, or by any worldwide organization. I already patronize smuggled and pirated DVDs for the sake of my mental matriculation, so why not deal in endangered species for my visceral satisfaction? And incredibly delicious endangered species at that, certainly worth the wrath of many an animal rights activist.
So moral compunction wasn't a factor in my turning pesco vegan either.
The unusually light tone of this particular entry was brought about unexpectedly by how I intentionally drove someone away from our house last night, while my Mom was keeping out of sight slouched in the car's backseat, to unintentionally end up with the cheesecake slice which was suppose to have been served to him.
I guess, 'good deeds', no matter how small, do get their just deserts.
This space needs a line for now.