I think I shrunk my jeans.
At least that's what I'm HOPING has happened.
If I DIDN'T shrink my jeans, prepare to be depressed.
If I didn't shrink my jeans, I'm left with only one other possibility. I think you know what I'm talkin' about, and suddenly, I don't like where this post is going. It's almost too horrible to imagine.
If I DIDN'T shrink my jeans, the only other conclusion I can come to is that I have once again become what I have tried to avoid all year. I have once again returned to my role as...
What a tragedy. What a blow to my ministry. What a blow-UP to my waistline.
What happened? Was it the cold March weather? The scary movie marathon on TBS? My friend's new cooking class, in which he used me as his guinea pig-homework- "here, taste this" audience?
Maybe it was the stress of starting an award-winning, semi-daily, blog-a-sermon?
Who knows?
My guess is that it was probably the Girl Scout cookies. And the 3rd helping cheesy pasta. And of course, the two weeks of no exercise. Maybe all three.
Needless to say, I will need to start ignoring this problem ASAP. Begin eating my troubles away. Maybe polish off a large pepperoni pizza at lunch - that oughtta shut my bad thoughts about myself up.
I'll also need to make a list of people I can blame for my recurring flubber fight. That should be easy. I always keep a "Blame List" handy for just such an emergency.
Most importantly, I will look for encouragement from the Bible. Fat times require fat verses. And so I turn to the one of the 12 disciples who would most understand my plight. I turn to the THADDEUS, "The Fat Disciple."
Thaddeus, or FATTEUS as he was known by Jesus' inner circle, was by far the fattest disciple. Well, I assume he was. Somebody HAD to be, and he's just as good a guess as the others. Funny name too, so I'll go with it.
Fatteus probably enjoyed fried fish over broiled, manna covered in cheese, lentils dipped in bar-b-que sauce. Clearly he didn't walk anywhere. When it was time to volunteer to walk on the water with Jesus, Thaddeus probably acted distracted by a coa coa covered ant. When Jesus fed the 5,000 and there were 7 baskets of food left over; it was Thaddeus who no doubt single-handedly finished 'em off.
Preachers are often emotional eaters. Fatteus was no exception.
On the other hand, Andrew was the FIT preacher. And probably a little braggy about it too. Fatteus probably couldn't STAND Andrew. I know I can't. Especially now as I sit in these Fatteus shrunken jeans.
And yet I know that in spite of how I'd LIKE to respond to this problem, in reality I must buck up, ignore my feelings and...
So what have we learned?
Basically, that I've packed on a few. And in spite of my true feelings, know that it's time to get serious again. So in lieu of stuffing another Thaddeus-worthy muffin in my mouth, I leave you now with this inspiring poem...
"Then neither do I condemn thee. Now go and eat no more."
(Amplified version. REALLY amplified.)
As together we stand and sing.
BP
At least that's what I'm HOPING has happened.
If I DIDN'T shrink my jeans, prepare to be depressed.
If I didn't shrink my jeans, I'm left with only one other possibility. I think you know what I'm talkin' about, and suddenly, I don't like where this post is going. It's almost too horrible to imagine.
If I DIDN'T shrink my jeans, the only other conclusion I can come to is that I have once again become what I have tried to avoid all year. I have once again returned to my role as...
"The Fatty Fat Fat Preacher."
"The Back-slider of Bagels."
"The Pastry Preacher"
"The Snicky Snack Sermonizer."
"The Cheater of Cheez-its."
"The Roly Poly Holly Roller."
What a tragedy. What a blow to my ministry. What a blow-UP to my waistline.
What happened? Was it the cold March weather? The scary movie marathon on TBS? My friend's new cooking class, in which he used me as his guinea pig-homework- "here, taste this" audience?
Maybe it was the stress of starting an award-winning, semi-daily, blog-a-sermon?
Who knows?
My guess is that it was probably the Girl Scout cookies. And the 3rd helping cheesy pasta. And of course, the two weeks of no exercise. Maybe all three.
Needless to say, I will need to start ignoring this problem ASAP. Begin eating my troubles away. Maybe polish off a large pepperoni pizza at lunch - that oughtta shut my bad thoughts about myself up.
I'll also need to make a list of people I can blame for my recurring flubber fight. That should be easy. I always keep a "Blame List" handy for just such an emergency.
Most importantly, I will look for encouragement from the Bible. Fat times require fat verses. And so I turn to the one of the 12 disciples who would most understand my plight. I turn to the THADDEUS, "The Fat Disciple."
Thaddeus, or FATTEUS as he was known by Jesus' inner circle, was by far the fattest disciple. Well, I assume he was. Somebody HAD to be, and he's just as good a guess as the others. Funny name too, so I'll go with it.
Fatteus probably enjoyed fried fish over broiled, manna covered in cheese, lentils dipped in bar-b-que sauce. Clearly he didn't walk anywhere. When it was time to volunteer to walk on the water with Jesus, Thaddeus probably acted distracted by a coa coa covered ant. When Jesus fed the 5,000 and there were 7 baskets of food left over; it was Thaddeus who no doubt single-handedly finished 'em off.
Preachers are often emotional eaters. Fatteus was no exception.
On the other hand, Andrew was the FIT preacher. And probably a little braggy about it too. Fatteus probably couldn't STAND Andrew. I know I can't. Especially now as I sit in these Fatteus shrunken jeans.
And yet I know that in spite of how I'd LIKE to respond to this problem, in reality I must buck up, ignore my feelings and...
DARE TO EAT LIKE AN ANDREW!
So what have we learned?
Basically, that I've packed on a few. And in spite of my true feelings, know that it's time to get serious again. So in lieu of stuffing another Thaddeus-worthy muffin in my mouth, I leave you now with this inspiring poem...
FATTEUS THE FATTER
by BP
See him preaching this and that
See him eating from a sack
Chips and dip and Chicken fried,
Cheesy doodles, chocolate pies,
He reads a verse, then eats again
Unleavened bread, the Preacher's friend
A little taste, Pot luck surprise
Then "Look a Pizza! Dino-size!"
Yeah verily now behold the fact:
The Sermon's over, the fat is back.
Brother Preacher
Fatland, 3/25/11
(Amplified version. REALLY amplified.)
As together we stand and sing.
BP
