I’m writing this as I ride our street car. In the past, I have walked the .75 miles or so into my office. But as I stared down at my now 300 lb belly this morning g, I decided my body didn’t need to go through all that exertion.

I waited for the train, sat down, patted the huge gut spreading before me and knew that it wouldn’t be suffering the indignity of having to move too much. The only walking I’ll do today is to lunch where I plan to go to a bar and come back to work after at least 4 beers.

People may judge me for taking transport so short a distance, but I no longer care. I didn’t get this body by being active. And as my gut pins me more and more, I’ll move less and less. I want my body to be a true symbol of gluttoness, lazy excess.