Beer. It is what's making me fat. I don't ingest a lot of sugars otherwise, or breads and pastas, or many of the other things that traditionally cause people weight problems. I do love pork and beef, deeply and truly. But it is the beer and the wine, also an abiding love. Though I will not stop drinking them only to lose weight. Weight alone is not worth the sacrifice. There must be some other hidden benefit, to sweeten the deal. I enjoy them, and the social time they afford me, far too much. I will perhaps need to cut back on how much I drink, teach my appetites the moderation that I have so well avoided.
It is either that, or I must spend even more time in the gym. After only three days my body is in pain, almost everywhere, in all directions. I have tried to work out muscles that have long been in disuse or disrepair, the forgotten internal artifacts of youth. The effect has been an odd soreness in places whose existence had become a faint memory. Now those places are awakening and sending continuous neural messages of agony through their special network and directly into the folded recesses of the brain. I have had to ingest additional beer to squelch their dissenting voices. You can see the circularity of the fat dilemma, no?
When I am done writing this I will go to the gym to further damage the various unknown tissue of my body. I can almost hear the flesh ripping in extended anguish. The mind screams at the barbarity of it. When that injury is complete I will again thirst for the elixir.
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Yesterday an old friend from Florida posted something on Facebook. I'm not sure why. I believe it might have been because I mentioned having been Catholic. Yes, now that I think of it, that must have been it. I am a recovering Catholic, but steadfast in my dedication and determination. I should have claimed I was an evangelical, like the fellows pictured above.
But the quote that he posted was apparently from a priest, explaining his supposedly repeated transgressions into many young boys ani.
"A lot of the cases, the youngster - 14, 16 or 18 - is the seducer... It's not hard to see - a kid looking for a father and didn't have his own - and they won't be planning to get into heavy-duty sex, but almost romantic embracing, kissing, perhaps sleeping but not having intercourse or anything like that."
Yes, of course. If we are not to blame the little infidels that begat all of these pedo-problems, then who else? Certainly not the adults that have taken earthly and celestial vows of chastity, those that are given untrammeled access to troubled youths kneeling, bowing, bobbing and praying to have their sins absolved away from above. Altar, alter, all tear altercations.
The solution seems obvious... cast these youngsters to the fates, let their worried minds be a temptation to the evil one alone, satan, the lurker. But do not further burden our holy middle-aged men with their free-spirited sexual whim... their taunting adolescent, barely pubescent, whimsy. These men are made only of faith and flesh, not brick alone.
We shouldn't expect these righteous soldiers of christ to keep their cocks in their pants all the time, especially with all these silly little flirts running around in their sexy shorts.
You can always trust those who profess faith, especially the celibates. Maybe priests should start counseling in pairs, or groups, like in the picture above.
Solutions needn't be difficult, sometimes they can be so, so easy.
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