Dateline: Royal Oak, Michigan
In a house somewhere on the west side of this fair city, under oaky boughs which have not yet shed their leaves, this non-correspondent sleepily arose the morning after from her Thanksgiving gluttony. When it's 23 degrees outside and you have a warm down comforter inside, that alone is a very difficult thing to do.
In passing a full length mirror in the bathroom, this non-correspondent was alarmed to notice a huge growth located where her stomach used to be.
To make sure, I jumped on the seldom-used scale.
Oh, no! A 2,574 pound weight gain was recorded on the face of the digital machine!
WTF! I rubbed my eyes. Could this be correct? I jumped off, and jumped back on. Yup. This was not a dream, but instead a terrible nightmare.
A check of the available news outlets reveals that this phenomenon is widespread, and reaching epidemic proportions. No word from the White House on possible antidotes for this deadly condition. Democrats charge that the President is hunkered down in his bunker with a 60-day supply of Texas beef ribs.
A moratorium on food was immediately called.
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Comments: 16
(I love to say the word buttocks, I say it just like Forrest Gump says it.)
And YES, John O, twenty-three friggin' degrees. It took ten minutes to warm up the four squirrels in my car.
But no outstanding weight gains in this household unless you count getting the old truck out of the driveway at last.