As most of you are aware, I’m currently doing Weight Watchers. It’s going fine. I’m only on week two and week one was amazingly successful. I’ve done WW in the past and have always been happy with the results (just a tip to the fine folks in the Midwest… for the love of god and all that is holy and moly, never, ever, under any circumstances look at the nutritional value of the menu items at Culvers.)

Anyway… that’s not really what I’m writing about. All you need to know for this blog post is… I’m fat.

I’ve always been a porker. Sort of. There were a few years in high school I was a serious dancer and took to starving myself and throwing up lunches. I gave that up after my boobs started to shrink. Gotta love the healthy self image. But for most of my life, I’ve been chubby. It’s because of this that I’ll never understand why my mom did the following:

Let me take you back to my four year old portrait. My mom always got really great pictures taken of her children when they were young. Beautiful portraits. I really admire her for doing that. Or maybe I hate her. I haven’t decided. Most of my pictures are really fun and pretty. But year four things got sketchy. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off, but she got me back. Hardcore. First, I had a Dorothy Hamill bowl cut. Awesome. It really brought out my double chin. Thanks Mom! But wait… it gets worse.

I had a cute little jogging suit on. And across the breast pocket it said…

I Heart Jogging

WHO PUTS A FAT KID IN A JOGGING SUIT THAT SAYS “I HEART JOGGING?”

FOR EVERYONE TO ENJOY FOR ETERNITY?

I’m not kidding when I say I looked like a 50 year old man from south side Chicago. The only thing that picture seems to say is “I Heart Fried Foods and Beer” and all the jogging suit is missing is a pack of smokes rolled in the sleeve.

All this blog post is missing is a scanned copy for your viewing pleasure.

Over. My. Dead. Body.