(64) When I was obese, I was a pig.
Perhaps this is a good moment to mention that, slim and frugal as I am now, it is a recent matter. For most of my life, I was obese and stank hard. It is much work to wipe the sweat from each crease and insufficient.Those deep folds of skin are worse than armpits. I would have had to use so much deodorant all over my body, and I didn't.
Weighing 750 lbs at my heaviest, I was a biggie. My hormones were never the cause of my hugeness. As anybody could see, I just loved to eat. But even the untrained eye could tell it ran deeper than that. I had a truly deep and symbiotic relationship with all foodstuffs.
That certainly doesn't mean I'd put something on an altar before eating it. Nor pray, for that matter. For beginners, let's just say I was at my table. I was a real pig. I was so sloppy I'd eat half of my meals off my shirt and pants.
When I got conveniently fat enough, I made sandwiches on my bare chest.People usually use a rag to wipe the table. What a waste. I cleaned myself with my fingers. From this humble start, it widened to defrosting, warming, fermenting, and storing food in my folds. Falling asleep with a lot of food on myself all the time gave me the idea.
It was so nice to have an itch of some kind and find an old leftover sandwich or something. A fine example of what happened next is chocolate and how it melts on the skin.Messy, but even tastier that way. Turns out everything tastes better like that. An exciting new development came when I accidentally sat on an open box of doughnuts.
That part of my body could be used too. I took off my pants and underwear and sat comfortably on a cream pie. I licked the crushed pan clean and wiped the rest with my fingers from behind to my eager mouth. It became a regular habit, and I tried it with everything I wanted to, making parsimonious use of my other body parts too.Equilibrium is finding what tastes better where and how. Arcimboldo is my favourite painter. People can be so critical and narrow-minded.
My mom often threw me hateful looks; that she wished she had sat on me at birth was written all over her face. She didn't easily accept that any place was as good as another to eat. I had great meals in the bathroom. Without using water, I had sponge baths. I'd make, like, 24 different kinds, throw them all in the tub, squish them naked as best as I could, and eat them.My pudding baths were very therapeutic.
Not only the wholesome effects of being completely covered by it but also the patience in cleaning it off with my fingers. It came to be that I was too fat to use the toilet. I bought a round plastic pool and put it in the living room, where I had room for it. I put a few inches of warm water in it and covered it with aluminium foil wrapped around a stick.
It gave me the impression of opening a can of sardines each time I went. When it would get very crowded in there and fuzzy with mould, I'd tie it with a strong string and drag it to the backyard with all the others. A donkey couldn't have done better.
The neighbours complain a lot, but at least they know they can come and use my toilet if theirs breaks down. We all have to go sometimes, don't we? I made my wines by trampling grapes with my whole body.
My soft-ripened cheeses were particularly nasty and pungent, and my cottage cheeses were thick and palatable on the roof of your mouth, with an eye-watering stench through the nose.At the height of my refinements, I suddenly began to decline into what I am now. I'm not obese anymore, and I'm not a pig like I used to be. But I hog forever anything I can put my hands on and anyplace I can be. I like how warm it gets.
