Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Mrs. G. Torches Her Diet Books

As some of you know, I believe in Fat Acceptance and Health at Every Size, aka the belief that the size of my ass is none of your Goddamned business and my cholesterol and blood pressure are just fine, so feel free to bite me if you're thinking of suggesting a diet and that includes doctors who'd rather discuss my weight than my non-weight related medical problems.

I am a much happier person now and not just because I can eat without doing algebra first.

Mrs. G. of Derfwad Manor and The Women's Colony has just come over to the light(ly toasted and generously buttered) side herself and has written a post that sums it all up better than I could myself.

And then she starts a fire, because re-selling or donating that shit just means that there's someone else reading it.

What stuff do you own that you'd consider barbecuing? I think I'd have to go with clothes that were too small when I bought them, or became too small at some point. Because then it becomes an issue of becoming thinner and therefore worthy of the pants, even though they make bigger pants. Most or all of that stuff has been sold or donated.


  1. I have way to much stuff. (one of the reasons why I bought a house is to keep my stuff.) I have to be honest I would have a tough time burning a damn thing. I could maybe set fire to a bunch of old clothes I have but I live in denial that I will someday fit into them again without looking like a sausage. Other things like pictures of myself and my first wife I say leave them in a box maybe my son will want them someday to see the three of us together(myself her and our son). As odd as it seems I keep stuff that I don't need but I have a reason for it as odd as it may seem to others. I don't keep stuff in the way you see packrats on television do so (have you seen some of these people and what they keep?!?!?!). Anyway enough of a rambling statement about nothing.

  2. My plan was to follow my the example of one of my undergrad profs and have a dissertation-burning ritual when I completed my doctorate. (He kept the ashes of his diss in a baby-food jar on a shelf in his office. And he fully intended to be buried with it.) Since I've decided not to complete my Ph.D., maybe I'll just burn my M.A. thesis instead.


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