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A Caloric Dirge

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Thursday, April 21, 2016

I am a huge fan of Seuss (thus this corny cup I made many years ago), but I am NOT the nonsensical genius himself. Nevertheless, I tend to think in rhymes lots of the times, so this came to mind this morning, thanks to an overdose of the boyfriend with a little too much ten-calorie creamer... It's not perfect meter and certainly is not Shakespeare (though I never did understand the big hoopla over that Rom-emo and Juliet, as the only part of that I like is the Sha Na Na song about being just like them, and I've got no interest in sonnets written by a guy in bloomers and a weird hat), but perhaps this rhyme will be good for a laugh for you. Whether you laugh at it or with it, "A research published in the International Journal of Obesity found just 15 minutes of laughter a day will burn 10 to 40 calories, depending on a person's weight and the intensity of the laughter. That is enough to lose between 1 to 4 lbs. a year." So have a laugh on me. Maybe you'll burn enough to put extra creamer in my boyfriend. (Yeah, I know, people. He's seeing almost ALL of you on the side, but I love him and all you guys anyway. He can't help it he's so irresistible.)

Autumn Conley

Oh, you little pesky critters,
lurking in fruit and bread and fritters.
You say nothing when first we meet,
when we collide and it's time to eat.

Yet when that fateful day is here,
you scream so loud it hurts my ear,
because you were invisible to my eyes,
but now you dare to show up, right there on my thighs.

When I step on that scale below
and peer at that number above my big toe,
you laugh and point and mock and giggle
because you silently sneaked in and made my parts jiggle.

Oh, you little sneaky things,
in carrots and soda and chicken rings.
You lumpily hide in all my curves
and boy, do you get on my nerves!

There are ten of you in my coffee cream
and hordes in the goodies about which I dream.
There are armies of you at the Golden Arches,
troops upon troops in those sweets and starches.

Even that breath mint or that Tums for my belly,
that chewing gum, Tic Tac, or tiny packet of jelly
is scorned by your presence, you stalkerish beasts.
Must you send in your armada to all of our feasts?

You may think you've won by invading my life,
but know this, you invisible causers of strife:
My meals are MY making, and while you may be in them
I've got goals for myself, and in spite of you, I'll win them!

You may haunt my nourishment. You may hide on that label.
You may find sneaky ways to land on my table.
You may tempt my taste buds. You may lure me to devour.
You may hide in things that are salty, sweet, or sour.
But in the end of it all, at the end of the day,
it is I who has to suffer the worry of the weigh.

So, calories, you nasties, prepare to be spurned.
Prepare to be refused, banished, and burned.
There is less of me now than there was way back when,
and that's because I've learned how to let less of you in!

You may live on my spoon, my knife, and my fork.
You may drip from the spatula or puddle on my spork.
But I've seen you melt off, and for that I'm excited.
This body is MINE, and you just aren't invited!

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