My neighborhood never lets me down, I can always rely on it to keep me in check. I was walking to Cole's last week and I happened to fall a few feet behind this pimped-out, Jheri-curled, street Lothario walking in the same direction. He kept turning around to look at me. We were almost in front of Cole's when he turned around and said, "Excuse me, I don't mean to keep turning around to stare at you, but, I see you have hips."
If I don't lay off the alcohol, ice cream, truffles, creamy potato salads, french dip sandwiches and other goodies that kind friends and roommates are offering me to stave off the sadness, I could, at my current rate of expansion, weigh 300 pounds by Christmas. That may be a slight exaggeration, but just the same, I better take the feedbag off. I probably shouldn't have eaten flan for dinner.