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.







.