You May, Indeed, Be a Fat-Neck…

When you’re flippin’ through some older photos and you run across something like this… well, all you can do is laugh…

If you wear Levi 1002s instead of 501s, you might be a fat-neck.

If the picture on your driver’s license is continued on the other side, you might be a fat-neck.

If you’re crossing the street and a motorist swerves to miss hitting you but runs out of gas in the process, you might be a fat-neck.

If you turn a teeter-totter into a catapult, you might be a fat-neck.

If you wear control-top turtlenecks, you might be a fat-neck.

If you’ve ever had a run in your blue jeans, you might be a fat-neck.

If you have to wear a three-piece bathing suit, you might be a fat-neck.

If people come up to you, rub your belly, and say “Oh Buddha, grant me my wish,” you might be a fat-neck.

If you can’t find a shawl that fits, you might be a fat-neck.

If you’re being recruited to be on The Biggest-est Loser, you might be a fat-neck.

If you sit down in your bathtub and the water in the toilet bowl rises, you might be a fat-neck.

Here's to everyone who's on the road to a healthier future.

It may take longer than you want, but we're gonna get there! 

Until then, keep your chins up.

You Might Be a Fat-Neck…

I’m so, so sorry…

This post has no redeeming qualities. All I can do is tell you that I’m suffering from the worst case of the Spring sillies I’ve ever had. I try to maintain some semblance of balance on this blog, but lately I’m just a 24/7 goofball. I don’t know if it’s the warmer weather, that I’ve dropped a ton of weight or some combination of the two, but I seem to be wearing a perpetual grin.

I’ll get my act together soon and serious this space up a little, but for now the best thing is probably for me to just try to work it out of my system with the silliest stuff I can write…

• If you can pinch an inch on your forehead, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you smoke turkeys after sex, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you are completely fluent in drive-thru speaker-speak, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If your favorite food is seconds, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If the back of your neck looks like a pack of hot dogs, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you get diagnosed with that flesh-eating disease and the doctor gives you twelve years to live, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you’ve got six different pizza places on speed-dial, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you put butter in your coffee, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you belong to “Hot Pockets Anonymous”, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If your favorite scent is tartar sauce, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you get on “The Little Engine That Could” and it says “Oh Hell No!”, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you’ve ever driven a car with a Filet-O-Fish in each hand, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If your kids use one of your dresses as a backyard tent, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If your necktie is only three inches long after you tie it, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you put mayonaise on your Lipitor, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If your shadow weighs over 100 pounds, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you say “Trick or Meatloaf” on Halloween, you might be a fat-neck.
  
  
• If you’ve eaten a can of frosting since beginning to read this post, you might be a fat-neck.

You Might Be A Fat-Neck...

Lord knows I try…

I mean, even on my silliest posts, I try to wedge in some nugget, some kernel, some speck of wisdom or advice or inspiration.

And then, every once in a while, I’ll hit on one of those ideas with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Something like “You might be a fat-neck…”

• If you eat dinner at a fast-food joint and then swing by the drive thru on your way out of the parking lot, you might be a fat-neck.
• If really fat people tell fat jokes about you, you might be a fat-neck.
• If your clothes have stretch marks, you might be a fat-neck.

A part of me says I should just shelf these lamebrain concepts, but they simply haunt me until I write them out of my system. Even when I shove ‘em aside and try to tackle a different subject, my brain keeps working them like some demented Rubick’s Cube.

• If you dance at a concert and the band skips, you might be a fat-neck.
• If your double chin has a double chin, you might be a fat-neck.
• If your favorite thing to eat on cookies is frozen cookie dough, you might be a fat-neck.

Sometimes, this blog seems to take on a life of its own. It goes where it wants to go and I’m just pulled along in the undertow. And it’s odd how often people will comment that they really needed that laugh today, or really needed that call to arms today, or really needed that swift kick in the booty today.

• If you direct-deposit your paycheck to the break room vending machine, you might be a fat-neck.
• If they recognize your voice when you call to order a pizza, you might be a fat-neck.
• If you put gravy on your Raisin Bran, you might be a fat-neck.

Here’s my justification for the silly posts: we’re in this for the long haul, you and me. We’re going to be here for quite some time… or at least that’s the plan. I don’t want to bark at you or lecture you or even inspire you seven days a week, but I wouldn’t mind you thinking about this journey we’re on every day. Some days, I think it’s okay that we just chuckle at ourselves, laugh at this f*cked-up situation that we’ve somehow put ourselves in.

• If you’re a member of the Ham-of-the-Month Club, you might be a fat-neck.
• If you have to iron your pants on the driveway, you might be a fat-neck.
• If you read Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit, you might be a fat-neck.

To me, this isn’t one of those “you gotta laugh to keep from crying” situations either. It just feels good to laugh sometimes, and when you’re on a long trip like we are, when you’re pushing yourself to do something that feels even bigger than you are, it’s nice to enjoy a light-hearted moment every so often.

We’re not always going to be fat-necks after all.

And that’s definitely something to smile about.