<*dv_1*>Yep It's true, however you look at it, I'm a bit of a bloater. It's strange because when I was a kid my nickname at school was chicken legs, now my legs pay more resemblance to a family size bucket of KFC. The same went for me when I was in my early teens, I quite modestly say that I resembled a Greek Adonis. So how, I hear you ask, did I get in to a state where the only thing Greek about me is the vast amount of olive oil I consume.
I've thought about this extensively, I did for many years blame it on my parents divorce which led me to comfort eat, to ease the pain. I seem to remember starting to consume rather large amounts of eggs, to almost everyone's, and my own at times, dismay. I then decided that it was the fault of weight training , because when I stopped, I still consumed the same large amount but without the exercise to burn it off. Then there was the fact that I left school, yes it was because I didn't do PE two times a week anymore, that must be it. I blamed my Doctor because every time I went to see him he would say, in my worst Indian accent, "don't worry, you are big man.... very strong... you should play cricket". Then I think last of all it was that I passed my driving test, hence, I stopped walking everywhere and just drove, the fact that I got my parents to drive me everywhere before, didn't seem to register with me.
<*dv_0*> I have a few problems, one being clothes, I shop at the big and tall shops online, I found a very amusing one that instead of having a beautiful male specimen modeling their clothes they had this short fat bloke who quite honestly made all their clothes look like crap. I can't fit in standard cars either, I need a monster truck to feel comfortable. My first car was a mini, about the only thing I could get in a mini now would be my lunch. I also have terrible trouble in enclosed spaces, I stomp on, knock over, crush and destroy anything in my near vicinity. One example is when I took my family out for a meal at a restaurant the other week, and, as usual, instead of giving me the nice spacious table, they decided to cram us in to one, fit for a family of gerbils. Well at the end of the meal I had paid the bill and was attempting to squeeze myself out from under the table, when I nudged it a little and tipped most of it's contents on the floor, to my kids and wife's great amusement. As you can imagine, I've had to develop a good sense of humor about myself over the years, and boy do I need it, because if I can't laugh at myself then there's plenty of others that will oblige as anyone else out there who's physically challenged will
know.
This goes out to all you fellow bloaters out there, stop making excuses and admit, like I have, that if you eat 30 double cheeseburgers it doesn't make you big boned, or automatically give you a gland problem, it just makes you a bloody fat greedy bastard.
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