The Azz

One day, on Fitness Flats,

There came an impasse,
With a Weight-Losing Azz
And a Weight-Gaining Azz.

And it happened that both of them were in a rut.
They were stuck. There they stood.
Face to Face. Gut to gut.

“Look here, now!” the Weight-Losing Azz said, “I say!
You are blocking my path. I’ve a workout today.
I’m a Weight-Losing Azz and though I’m stuck at this weight.
If I keep doing right, the results will be great.”

“That’s a dumb way to think!” snapped the Weight-Gaining Azz.
“You’re exercising too much, it’s affecting your mass.
You should do it MY way!  Just rest and have faith
That the scale doesn’t notice all the food that you ateth.”

Then the Weight-Losing Azz shook his head side to side.
“I never,” he said, “want to live extra-wide.
And I’ll prove to you that working out works.
Plus it provides you with energy and other great perks!”

“And I’ll prove to YOU,” yelled the Weight-Losing Azz,
“That I’ll lose weight without all that sweat-sweating jazz.
I know I can do it! I can manage my bigness

Without running and lifting and that sort of fitness.
Never sweat! That’s my rule. Never get yourself sweaty!
Never yuck up your clothes! Never smell like a Yeti!
I’ll stay here, not sweating! I can and you’ll witness.

I can lose weight without bothering with fitness.”

Well...
Of course his weight didn’t stand still. His weight grew.
He gained back what he’d lost before he was through.

But the other Azz kept on working, true to his word.

And his health got much better (tho his blog’s still absurd).

The Cat in the Fat Comes Back

“I know some good games 

We could play,”
Said the Jack.
“I know some new tricks,” 

Said the Jack in the Fat. 

“A lot of good tricks.

I will show them to you. 

Your weight might go down
If you do as I do.”

But the Flesh said, 
“No! No!
Make that Jack go away!

Tell that Jack in the Fat 

You don’t care what you weigh! 

He should not be here. 

He is not very wise. 

He should not weigh in
On the size of your size!”

“Now! Now! Have no fear. 

Have no fear!” said the Jack. 

“My tricks are not bad,” 

Said the Jack in the Fat. 

“Why, we can have lots of good fun,”
The Jack states, 

“With a game that I call UP UP UP
With some weights!”

“Put those down!” said the Flesh. 

“This is no fun any more! 

Put them down!” said the Flesh.

“I DON’T wanna be sore.”

“Have no fear!” said the Jack. 

“You will be less sore soon. 

You’ll be like a butterfly out the cocoon. 

With muscles on muscles,
You’ll be over the moon.”

“Look at you! Look at you now!” said the Jack. 

“With lean muscle all over your arms, legs and back! 

You can hold up TEN pounds. 

You can hold up ten more!

You can do lots of reps,
And you seldom get sore!

And look! 

You can climb up four flights of stairs,
Which helps when the elevator’s down for repairs. 

But that is not all! 

Oh, no. That is not all…

“Look at you! 

Look at you!

Look at you NOW! 

Sporting a body that makes folks say “Wow!” 

You can lift up more weights,
And run miles at a time.

Chin-ups you do now and hills you can climb. 

You can pick up a child 

And not throw out your back. 

You can exercise freely 

Like your buddy Jack. 

You can hike really far,
You don’t laze on the sofa 

With a pizza and beer 

As you slip in a coma!

You are strong as can be,
This is your life, you know.
It is time to get fit now.
Let’s get up and go!

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. 

The Beetches

Now the Fat-Bellied Beetches had bellies with fat.

The Fit-Bellied Beetches would have none of that.

Those bellies were different, of such different sizes. 

You wouldn’t believe if you saw with both eye-es.

The Fat-Bellied Beetches had stretch-marky scars. 

The Fit-Belly Beetches had none upon thars.

But because of those bellies, the Fat-Bellied Beeches

Would vow to do better with I’ll-do-better speeches.

They wanted to have much tighter tummies,

But had trouble saying “no” to the yumtastic yummies.

Because they were fat, all the Fat-Belly Beetches

Would cry, “Our asses are too big for our breeches.”

With their heads hanging low, they would sniffle out loud
,
“We wish we could be like the Fit-Belly crowd!”
 


Well, the Fit Belly Beetches did 900 crunches
,
Followed by torso twists in rather large bunches
.
Yes, the Fit-Belly Beetches worked hard on their figures
.
Much harder, it seemed, than their Fat-Bellied sisters.
Was that the reason for their outward aesthetics,

Or was it some fluke with some lucky genetics?



Well, ONE day, it seems that the Fat-Belly Beetches
Were moping and doping in their too-little breetches,

Just sitting there wishing their bellies were flatter,

A stranger popped in who seemed mad as a hatter!


“My friends,” he announced in a voice gruff and gritty.

“My name is Sir Franklin McJackson McSh*tty.

And they tell me you’re sick of your body like putty.
I can fix you right up. I’m your Fix-You-Up buddy.
I’ve come here to help you,
 and help you I might
.
I think I can help get your tummies more tight.

It may not work for you, but the price is sure right.”



Then, quickly Sir Franklin McJackson McSh*tty

Tried to steer those Beeches out of Obese City.

And he said, “You want fab abs like a Fit-Bellied Beetch?
It’ll take lots of work, but it’s not out of reach!”
Just start exercising and eating less crap!
And download this downloadable sit-up counting app.
"

So they started to change, they started to work
,
If only to shut up that McSh*tty jerk.

They began to work out, they did crunches in bunches.

They wised up and prepared low-calorie lunches.
And after a few months, they felt way less famished
,
And those bellies of theirs had started to vanish.

Then they yelled at the ones who were fit long ago,

“You’re not the only Beetch who’s a Fit-Bellied Ho!”

They danced and they pranced and they strutted their stuff.

They were proud of themselves though the going was tough.

And when the Fit-Bellied Beetches returned from their runs,

They couldn’t distinguish themselves from the Fat-Bellied ones.

Then up came McSh*tty with a rather sly wink.
And he said, “Things are not quite as bad as you think.
So you don’t know who’s who. Things are mixed-up.

I can help you get everything fixed up.

If you do what I say, practice what I preaches.
I can turn you into Fat-Bellied Beetches!
For 10 bucks I can help you double your waist line.
So step right on up, let’s nobody waste time.



“Belly fat,” said the Beetches, “Is no longer in style.

We like to be fit,” they all said with a smile.

“And if others are fit, too, well that’s all well and good.
In fact, we wish that everyone could!”


Then Sir Franklin McSh*tty got just a bit pissed,
And griped about all of the profits he missed.

The Fix-You-Up Buddy’s plot to great wealth,
Couldn’t compete with the love of good health.

And he frowned as he drove, screaming at each,
“I never will learn that you can’t trust a Beetch!”



That McSh*tty was wrong should just go without saying,

And being fit is so much healthier than buffeting.

Yes, they decided that healthy living is best,
And helps you love your body (especially undressed).

Now all those Beetches reach for the stars,
And try to get rid of the belly fat upon thars.

The Lardass

By Dr. Sh*t

At the far end of the wall

Where old photographs rest.

In the back of the house near the
Room for our guests,
Hangs the very worst picture
Anyone every possessed.

It’s the Portrait of
The Lazy Lardass.



And there in that photograph,
Some people say,

If you look deep enough
You can still see, today,

Where the Lardass once smiled

His “Don’t-look-at-me” grimace,

Before something transformed
The Lardass’ bigness.



What was the Lardass?

Why was he so obese?

And how did he make his
Poor body decrease
From that photograph in that
Uncomfortable pose?

The old Blog-ler dwells here now.

Ask him. He knows.



Go to the blog of the Blog-ler.

Just click on his link.
It’s not his real name,
But you can call him Jack St*nk.

He writes every night,
Crafting posts very cleverly.

He laughs at his own jokes, 

While munching on celery.

And about once a day,

He describes how
His fat vanished.
He blogs his whole story,

How the Lardass was banished.

He'll tell you, perhaps...
if you're willing to stay.
 


It all started way back...

Such a long, long time back...



Way back in the days when
The Cheetos were still eaten.
And beers were still swilled

By a big chubby cretin.
When all kinds of bad stuff
Wound up on his plate.
When he couldn’t control
What he did or he ate. 

And he loved to melt cheese!

The Velvetta cheese!

The bright-orange hunks of 

That Velvetta cheese!

Melted atop pile after pile of
Fries from the deep freeze.



And there by the fries, 

See the Brown Piz-za-Rolls,

Looking so good in their
Piz-Za-Roll bowls.

There right beside a plate
Of sweet Donut-ty Holes. 
 


But that cheese! That cheese!

That Velvetta cheese!
He’d buy a big box and eat all
That he’d please.
 

The taste of that cheese

So rich and so processed,
All melted on chips on
His plate on the armrest.

In no time at all, he had built
Quite a gut.
Had transferred pounds of Velvetta

Down onto his butt.
 


Then one day he stopped,
His brain went ga-Zump!
He looked.
And saw that his body
Was just a big lump.
He was just about as wide
As mom’s minivan.
Describe him? That’s easy.
He was the Michelin Man.

Then one day he decided,
That his frame was too weighty.
He started to blog and turned his
Life around one-eighty.
A week full of workouts while
He stopped eating biscuits,
Had lead to his weight falling
By double digits.

Still, he was squishy. And softish.

And plumpish. And assy.

And his body talked to him
In a voice sharp and nasty.


 
“Mister! it said with a gluttoneous wheeze,

I am the Lardass. I speak for the Cheese.

I speak for the Cheese,
For the Cheese is the boss.
And I'm telling you, sir,
We’re upset at this loss!”

He was very pissed off as he
Flittered and flogged--

“What's that THING you've
Blogged on your blog?”

“Look, Lardass,” Jack said.
“Don’t go wetting your pants.
This may not work out,
But I’m taking that chance.

I'm gonna keep going.
This blog’s called Jack Sh*t.
Cuz ‘Jack Sh*t’s’ what I know
About getting more fit.


“It’s a blog. It’s a diary.
It’s an anchor. It’s a guide.

It’s a way to reach down to
The healthy person inside.

I use it for inspiration.
For guidance. For jokes.

For the opportunity to help
Other fat folks.”


The Lardass said,
“Jack!
You are dumb as a log.

There is no one on earth

Who would read that fool blog!”

But the Lardass was wrong,
Jack proved he was demented.

For, just a few days later,
A commenter commented.

She thought that Jack’s blog post
Was great for over-eaters,
And promised to talk it up
To other potential blog readers.

Jack laughed at the Lardass,
“You poor stupid cretin!

You never can tell what
Some people are readin’.”

 


Jack didn’t want to live fatter.
He most truly did not.

He had to grow fitter.
So fitter he got.

He fittered his arms.
He fittered his thighs.

He fittered his bottom.
He fittered his size.

He fittered his body,
North, south, east and west.
He wasn’t always perfect,
But he did try his best.

He went right on fittering...
Getting more and more fit.

And if you think he’s done fittering,
You don’t know Jack Sh*t.



The Lardass said nothing.
Just gave Jack a gaze...

And promised he’d see him again
One of these days.

But Jack is intent
To be rid of that rascal.

He’s dug a deep moat
To protect his new castle.

And the door boasts a sign
With just one word:  “UNLESS”
To remind those inside
That you don’t want to regress.
The Lardass would love to
Leave you with new messes,

Unless we continue to build
On our successes.



It’s been a long journey,

But each day since that day,

Jack’s worked really hard to
Keep the Lardass away.

And now there’s more things he can do
Than things he cannot.

So he’ll keep pushing forward

With all that he’s got.



And now, says the Blog-ler,

It’s time you did your part
.
The Lardass may have your body,
But he can’t touch your heart.

UNLESS you start

Giving healthy living a shot,

You’re not going to get fitter.

You’re not.



SO...

"Catch!" calls the Blog-ler.

Something falls to my knees.

It's a Velvetta box.

But it’s missing the cheese.

(What were you expecting?
Some Truffula Seeds?)

And no Velvetta cheese is what everyone needs.

It’s your only body.
Treat it with care.

Give it plenty of water.
Feed it fresh fare.

Grow more fit.
Be just like Jack.

Then the Lardass and his lazy ways

Will never come back.







.

The Cat in the Fat

Note: After six months of producing original content for this blog each and every day, I’ve finally decided to knock off one day a week. Chris at A Deliberate Life suggested that I re-run some of my favorite posts, so I decided to make Saturdays a “Same Old Sh*t” day. This well-received piece was one of my first forays into the little-mined field of weight-loss parody poetry.

The Cat in the Fat

The sun did not shine,
Hadn’t shined in a bit,
For the fellow the blogging world
Knows as Jack Sh*t.

He sat there so sadly.
He sat there unhappily.
And he said, “How I wish
I didn’t eat quite so crappily.”

Too big to go out
And too fat to play ball.
So he sat at his desk
And did nothing at all.

And all he could do was to
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
And it left him feeling
Like a big lump of sh*t.

And then
Something went bump!
How that bump made him jump!

He looked!
Then he saw it pop onto his screen.
A web site
On weight loss and low-fat cuisine.
And it said to Jack,
"C’mon, let’s break this routine.”

"I know you are chubby.
And there’s work to be done
But you can drop poundage
And still have some fun."

"Have no fear!" said the site.
"I will not let you fail.
I will give you new confidence
When you stand on that scale."

"In order to lose weight,
There’s two things you must do.
And I call these two things
Thing One and Thing Two."

"Thing One is 'eat less.'
Stuff less food in your mouth.
Cuz what goes in up North
Often winds up down South."

"'Exercise more' is Thing Two
And please don’t forget.
You won’t dump the plump
Without sweating some sweat."

"Follow Thing 1 and Thing 2
And you won’t stay a fat hog.
Why, if you wanted to you could
Write your own blog."

"Chronicle your journey
As you step away from the abyss
Fill it with wisdom
(And a few stupid lists)."

So I vowed to eat right,
I started to move.
And soon I was in my own
Little weight-losing groove.

And my blog’s doing great.
I may never get rich,
But it seems to have found
Its own special niche.

So this cat’s on his way,
He just won’t ever quit.
You can follow his story
(Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit).

I hope you enjoyed this,
All silly and Seuss-y.
But I may need a lawyer,
When somebody sues me.

x