Jack Fish, Sh*t Fish,

Jack fish,
Sh*t fish,
Fat fish, fit fish,

Large fish, obese fish,
Time-for-this-to-cease fish.

This one has a lot of mass.

This one has a giant ass.

Say! These fish need to change things fast.


Yes. Some are fitter, and some just starting.
Some count cals and some are charting.

Some are sad, and some are glad,

And some are very, very bad.

Why are they sad and glad and bad?
Cuz of the weigh-ins they just had.
 


Some are fat, and some are fatter.

All are climbing the same ladder.

From there to here,

From here to there,

We weight losers are everywhere.


Here are some who like to run.

They run for fun in the hot, hot sun.

Oh me! Oh my! Oh my! Oh me!

What a running potpourri! 

Some run kilometers and some run miles.

Some with grimaces, some with smiles.

They don their shoes most every day.

And then they run a long, long way.

Some are fast. Some are slow.
(The slow ones pass me, don’t you know?) 

Not one of them is like another.

But still they run a little futher.



Say! Look at his lunges!

One, two, three...

How many lunges do I see?

One, two, three, four,

Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

He did eleven!

Eleven! That is something new.

I wish I had done eleven, too!



Schwike! 

Schwike! 

Schwike!

Do you ever ride a Bike?
Do you know how good riding feels?

I have a unicycle that has two wheels!

And I know a man named Mister Pike.

Mr. Pike has a really expensive bike.
So... if you’re rich and if you like
You can hike on a bike like Mister Pike.
 



Who am I? My name is Jack
.
I used to drink beer by the pack.

This is no good for staying svelte.

My gut stuck out beyond my belt.

And when I sucked it in,
Oh, Dear!

It made me drink another beer!
 


Hello there, Jack.
How do you do?

Tell me, tell me what is new?

How are things on your little diet?

What is new? Please don’t keep quiet!

I do not like this diet a bit.

I cannot eat a banana split!

Fruits, veggies, whole wheat grain
.
Oh! What a plan! Oh! What a pain!



Oh bleep, oh bleep! I cannot sleep.

I’ve counted seven million sheep.

I drank a quart of chamomile tea.

And still there is no Z's for me.

Say look! Perhaps you could try to wean
Yourself off all of that caffeine
Which comes from all that coffee'n.


I ate a plum, my blog is dumb.

I like to chew sugar-free gum.

I did a run, my workout’s done.

My workout’s done, I did a run.

I like to chew sugar-free gum.

My blog is dumb, I ate a plum.

And now my story’s told, old chum.



Went to the gym. I look a swim.

In the next lane a dude called Jim.
Working out with lots of vim.
Churning water with his limb.
Looking very fit and trim.

Why can’t I do this more like him?



I do not like this one so well.

Walks the treadmill on her cell.
Working out with some frustration
Trying to ignore her conversation.
It’s hard to find your workout zone
When fools are yakking on the phone.

At our house we eat some fruit.

We like to eat a lot of fruit.

To look good in our birthday suit.

Eating fruit is very good.

Fill your snoot with fruit? You should.



I like to tweet. How I like to tweet.

So every day I tweet what I eat.

Wheats or meats, I tweet my eats.

My tweets on eats just can’t be beat.




Did you ever hike to a mountaintop?

Did you ever dance ‘til you were about to drop?
Have you made a life improvement plan?

Well, you can do it. You know you can.

If you haven’t, you should hasten.

These things take time, and time’s a’wastin’.



Hello, hello. Are you there?

Hello!
I called you up to say hello.

Can you call back?

Can you hear me, Jack?

Oh no, I cannot hear your call.

I cannot hear your call at all.

This is not good, and I know why.

I’m on the treadmill at the gym, goodbye!




And now, so long…
I’m off to jog.
Then I will log this on my blog. 

Today is gone. This post was fun.

Tomorrow is another one…

Remember: every day,
From here to there.

Healthy things are everywhere.

THE DAILY SCALEY

Cutting back on the green eggs and ham...

If I Ran the Store

“It's a good store, I’ll admit,” said young Jackie McSh*t,
“And there’s healthy stuff there if you know what to get.
But if I ran the place,”
Said Jackie with glee.
“I believe that’d I’d make a few changes, you see…”

“The cupcakes and cookies and that kind of stuff
Are tasty but aren’t really healthy enough.
You can get all that crap at any ol’ grocery,
But my store will have wholesome foods (mostly).”

“A rack full of donuts is awfully calorious,
So I’d replace it with fresh fruit so glorious.
Apples and cherries,
Kumquats and berries,
No one’ll believe all the fruit my store carries.
This store-keeper, more-keeper should be plumb rich,
Because he is one focused, health-driven sumbitch.”

My fit store, McSh*t store’s the store of the year.
My fit store, McSh*t store will make people cheer
For the exotic cheeses and imported beer.

I’ll get for my store a whole row of bins,
Filled with all sorts of health-helping odds and ends
Lentils and rice, beans and granola.
Bins full of oil, olive and canola,
Each with it’s own special cupola.
If you want it, do I carry it? Oh yeah!

But that’s just the first aisle,
There’s more and you want it.
You’ll see me next day in my store-keeper’s bonnet
Wheeling in a long table with fresh veggies on it.

You’ll be so surprised you might swallow your tongue.
When you see how much produce my storeroom has sprung.
Everything fresh, all tender and young.
Shipped overnight from lands way off yonder.
How can the prices be this low, you may ponder.

“Yes, my prices are slit,”
Said young Jackie McSh*t.
“Because it’s my belief
You’ve a right to be healthy.
Even if you’re not
So incredibly wealthy.
You should have a  place
That’s quite easy to get to.
And won’t cost a bundle
To help you get fit, too.”

I’ll discourage ingredients that no one can spell,
Like calcium stearoyl-2-lactylate-ell.
I promise to keep my shelves
Completely unblemished,
With foodstuffs prepared
By a committee of chemists.

Yes, my store will include
All sorts of good food.
The best healthy choices
That you’ve ever viewed.
And none of the employees
You meet will be rude.
(Except for the sushi chef…
What’s with that dude?)

Italian food, Indian, Chinese, Hispanic.
A selection of good choices simply gigantic.
And everything 110% organic.
We’ll ring you up, and hey… this is fantastic!
Our paper bags are made from recycled plastic.

Wow, you will cheer, at this store that you chose.
It’s better than Whole Foods, it kills Trader Joe’s.
That’s what Jackie McSh*t said.
“I’d do that and more.
I’d make a few changes if I ran the store.”

THE DAILY SCALEY

Dammit! Forgot to weigh this morning. 

Jax in Slacks

Jax.
Slacks.
6-packs.
Lax.

Jax in slacks.
Relax with six-packs.
Jax’s slacks get too tight.
Time for Jax to face facts.
Time for Jax to try to diet.

Jax in slacks.
Diets and tracks.
Eat less foodstuff cooked in grease.
Portion sizes must decrease.
No one wants wants to live obese.

Jax in slacks
Still are tighter.
Jax has had to pay the piper.
Needs to be a brighter dieter.
Workouts need to be more hyper.
Weigh-in puts him 2 lbs. lighter.

Jax makes pacts
To eat more low-fat.
Got a salad that he’ll pick at.
Bad habits, yeah you gotta kick that.
Time to not be such a thick brat.

Jax in slacks
That’re getting looser.
Drinking juice juiced from a juicer.
Plans to make no more excuse, sir.
Jax is mighty sweat-inducer.
But pretty piss-poor Dr. Seuss-er.

THE DAILY SCALEY

No, that's not a note card with my weight printed
out on it; it was birthday weekend... DON'T JUDGE ME!

How The Binge Stole Fit-mass

Every Sh*t 

Down in Sh*tville

Liked fitness a lot...
But the Binge,

Who lived just North of Sh*t-ville,

Did NOT!

The Binge hated fitness! Hated it worse than Gigli.

He just wanted folks to relax and eat pigily.


It could be that he just never learned to eat right,

Or that he sat on the couch and watched TV all night.

But I think that the most likely reason of all,

May have been that his pants were two sizes too small.

But,

Whatever the reason,

TV or tight pants,

There he was every Fit-Mas, his same hateful stance.

Staring down at the Sh*ts with a sour, Binge-y grimace,

At the active people working to unthicken their thickness.

For he knew every Sh*t down in the area down yon,

Was busy now getting their exercise on.

“And they’re doing their lunges!” he snarled with a sneer.

And watched all the lunging while swilling a beer.

Then he growled, with ranch dressing all over his chin,

“I MUST find a way to stop Fit-Mas, my friend.”


For, tomorrow, he knew...

...All the Sh*ts on the streets.

Would wake up bright and early. They’d down healthy eats!

And then! Oh, the tweets! Oh, the tweets! Tweets! Tweets! Tweets!

That’s one thing he hated! The TWEETS! TWEETS! TWEETS! TWEETS!

Then the Sh*ts, young and old, would head out for a jog.

And they’d blog! And they’d blog!

And they’d BLOG! BLOG! BLOG! BLOG!
They would blog with their run-times, and how they were feeling,

Which sent the Binge’s blood pressure up to the ceiling.

And THEN

They’d do something he liked least of all!

Every Sh*t down in Sh*t-ville, the big and the small,

Would all get together, no matter how fat.

They’d log onto their computers and they would all chat.
They’d yak! And they’d chat!

AND they’d CHAT! CHAT! CHAT! CHAT!

And the more the Binge thought of this healthy life chat,

The more the Binge thought, “I must stop this crap, stat!”


“Why for many a year I've put up with this brutal sh*t.

How to stop Fit-Mas from coming?

I’ll just Google it!”

There he got an idea!

An awful idea!

THE BINGE

GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"”I know just what to do!” he said grabbing some bacon.

And he put on a fancy chef hat and an apron.

And he chuckled, and clucked, got his skillet well greased
.
“No Sh*t can resist a big Binge-y feast!”


“All I need is some hash browns...”

The Binge checked for taters.

And fried them up nice with some peppery flavors.
 

Was that enough for the old Binge...?

No! The Bingle simply smiled,

“No one can resist homemade biscuits, child.”
So he whomped up some biscuits, then got some eggs fryin’.

No one could resist the food he’d be supplyin’.


THEN

He piled on his dishes,

Loading bowl after bowl.

He wanted to tempt

Every last Sh*tville soul.

Then the Binge said, “Let’s roll!”

With his sleigh full of yummies.

And he headed to on down
To feed food to the dummies.


The Binge entered town, a big clumsy drunk dude.

With a mind fulla malice and a bag fulla junk food. 

When he came to the first house there in the town.

“This is stop one,” The Bingey Chef said with a frown.

And he threw his beer can down on the ground.

Then he entered the house, and in a move most unethical,

Went to the pantry and stole every vegetable.

Potatoes! And bok choy! Radishes! Kale!

Carrot sticks! Watercress! Turnips, as well!
“Let’s get rid of this stuff,” he said with a slow drawl.

And stuffed the whole mess down the disposal.


Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Sh*t’s  fruit!

The apples. Oranges. The gnarled ginger root.

He cleaned out that icebox being oh-so stealthy

And replaced all the foods with stuff most unhealthy!

He dropped off some Pop-Tarts.

He left marshmallow fluff.

Pre-packaged lunchmeat.

And other bad stuff.

And the one healthy speck 

That the Binge left for grazin’

Was a piece of a part of an old cruddy raisin.


Then

The Binge went and

He did the same switchin’s

Leaving crap

Way unhealthy

In other Sh*t’s kitchens.

It was quarter past dawn,

The very start of the day

With the Sh*ts still asleep,

When he set up his buffet.
Loaded it up with omelets! 

And sausage! And cornflakes!

And gravy! And waffles!

And cream cheese! And corncakes!

He loaded the tables with dishes overflowing,

And smiled as he thought of waistlines a’growing.
“Pooh-pooh to the Sh*ts” he was binge-ish-ly grinning.

This banquet I’m throwing is just the beginning.

By lunchtime, they’ll be full up to their chin,

And then I’ll serve up more goodies again.

Then all the Sh*ts down in Sh*t-ville will all DIVE RIGHT IN!”

“That's a sight,” grinned the Binge,
"
That must be observed.”

So he paused, the Binge there by the food that he served.

But something was goin’ on that was kinda confusing.

The Sh*ts weren’t hurrying over after their snoozing.

Why, they paid no attention.

There was no rush to the feast!

He’d provided every temptation,

And they couldn’t care in the least.

He’d offered up calories there by the bazillions,

And couldn’t entice these hardcore Sh*t-villians!

The Binge popped his eyes!

Then he shook!

What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every Sh*t down in Sh*t-ville, the fat and petite,

Were limbering up for a jog down the street.

He HADN'T stopped Fit-Mas from coming!

IT’S HERE!

The Binge stood there frowning and sipping his beer.

He watched them run by, his apron still splattered with grease.

“They didn’t want my crumbcake, not even a piece!

They passed up my hash browns! Said no to French toast. 

Didn’t want my eggs benedict served on pot roast!”
 


And he puzzled three hours, `till his feast had gone cold.

‘Til in the Binge’s head, a thought finally took hold.

Then the Binge had a idea,

"Maybe Fit-Mas," he said. "Doesn't come from a meal.

Maybe Fit-Mas... perhaps... is a much bigger deal!”


And what happened then...?

Well, some like to admit,

That the Binge’s tight pants

Made him want to get fit.

And the minute he started on down the right road,

He felt a tremendous lightening of his own heavy load.


So he threw out the food!
All that unhealthy schlock!

And he...
...HE HIMSELF...!

The Binge jogged ‘round the block!

Oh, The Changes You Can Change!

Oh, the changes you can change...

You can change up your diet.
That’s what you can do.
You can start eating fruit,
And more vegetables, too…

You can change your outlook.
Short term or long range.
You can change up how you think.
Oh, the CHANGES you can change!

Oh, the CHANGES you can change up
If only you try!
If you try,
You’ll find your only limit’s the sky.

And if you don’t like your bigness.
You can change up your fitness.
Change it. Change it. Step up and change it.
Fix it. Flex it. Go ahead and rearrange it.
If you don’t like where life is going,
Then change it.

You can change without paying.
You can change without aching.
You can change your whole world,
If you know what I’m saying

You can change just like
Jackie MacFranklin O'Sh*t
Who blogs his adventures while
Getting more fit.

Change up your workouts.
Change up what you eat.
Change up your sofa;
Install an Ejector Seat.

You can change up your Nights,
Spend some time getting organized.
Then maybe your mornings
Won’t be quite so traumatized.

You can change up your Day,
A day of succeeding
A day of good choices,
Instead of overeating.

Change! Change and triumph.
Triumph and change.
This is your time!
Step up on the stage!

You can wonder…
How long ‘til I make myself strong?

There are so many CHANGES that a Changer can change!
This could be the beginning of a new Golden Age!

And what would you do if you met a New You?

Oh, the CHANGES you can change!

Change left and change right
And change low and change high
Oh the CHANGES you can change up
If only you try!

More Dr. Seuss/Jack Sh*t combos? 
Check out here, here, here, here and here. Oh yeah, and here.

Sh*twick the Big-Bottomed Goof

Up at Lake Titticaca… the far Northern shores.
He was sitting there eating his fourth and fifth s’mores.
His “sample” had turned into a big crazy binge,
And his jaw was about to come off of its hinge.

Then it happened that Sh*twick, that overweight fellow,
Frowned with his mouth sticky from the marshmallow.
Because a face started to form there in the fire,
A face that hadn’t been there two minutes prior.
“Hello,” the face said.
“Why not stop eating, Sh*twick?”
Put down those graham crackers,
Marshmallows and choc-lick.
They’re a surefire way to get way too-big quick!”

“I’m drunk” laughed ol’ Sh*twick, the big-bottomed goof.
He gazed at the beer cooler as if looking for proof.
“Campfires have no mouthhole.”
You’re just talkin’ trash, troll.
So just cool your jets, you fiery ash-hole!”
But as Sh*twick sat there with his s’mores and his beer,
The campfire continued in a voice loud and clear.

“Well,”
The fire said, “You can joke and/or mock.
With your gut full of beer and your mouth full of choc.
But I’m here to tell you your life is in peril,
And things will get worse if you don’t be more careful.
It’s time to get going, you’re not getting younger.
It’s time to do something to curb your mad hunger.
And get a few wins in your battle with blubber.”

“You are right,” said ol’ Sh*twick.
“It’s time I took a chance.
Time for my horizons to be broadened
Instead of my pants.”

Ol’ Sh*twick agreed there in the outdoors,
Then proceeded to prepare a couple more s’mores.
“Tomorrow I’ll do well, I’ll start being more good.
I’ll exercise more and work out like I should.”

“Tomorrow?” The fire snorted, and grew even bigger.
“You’ve a gun at your head and you’re right on the trigger.
Don’t put it off, Sh*twick, that’s what I say.
It’ll be no easier tomorrow than it will be today.”

The fire grew larger,
Up over his head.
“Commitment’s like wildfire!”
That’s what he said,
In a voice sharp as barb wire.
Before he got burnt,
He looked down at his cookie.
Sh*twick couldn’t possibly do this.
Or could he?

Tomorrow?
No, Sh*twick.
Decidedly not.
It was time now to get busy or get off of the pot.
It’s true that things here were incredibly hot.
Now he remembered what he knew to be real.
About how awesome good health can feel.
Today is the day.
Sh*twick knew in his heart.
Today’s the best day you can possibly start.
He vowed to make this one his very best year,
Then put out the fire (with recycled beer).

“I have my own fire.
It burns deep inside.
To help on my quest to live my life less wide.”

And he wadded those s’mores up with the rest of the trash.
He buried them deep beneath still-smoldering ash.
And got himself ready for a big weight-loss clash.

HIS LIFE HAS BEEN CHANGED
SINCE THE HEAT HAS BEEN TURNED UP.
And with the help of that fire,
All those pounds have been burned up.

More Dr. Seuss/Jack Sh*t combos? 
Check out here, here, here, here and here.