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Crap! Or Get Off the Pot!

Note: This post has a few Spanish-ish words thrown in, please leave a comment if you need a translation.

Gordito awoke and weighed himself on the scalito only to find that he had gained 12 poundosas. He raced to the toilet and immediately stuck his finger down his throatino hoping to expunged the three bowls of Cocao Puffs, the two Twinkies, and the Breakfast Burrito he had just eaten.

Tears streamed down his face as he gagged repeatedly and unfortunately, he could not regurgitate the 9,000 calories worth of food he had just consumed.

He looked in the mirror at his sagging stomach and flabby chest and muttered to himself, “Gordito, you need to crap or get off the pot…”

For the last 8 months Gordito had been working out violently. He had slapped those weights into submission every week, he had punished his arms and his legs and he had bullyed the stair masterama by stomping on it relentlessly for hours at a time. The problem was not with Gordito’s workout habits, but rather his eating habits. Every day his co-workers would invite him to lunch, on the weekends he would have game nights and pool parties, and if that weren’t enough he would binge every now and then on Mrs. Fields cookies or Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.

Silly Gordito, he was literally taking one step forward and two steps back – in Mexico they called this the Two-Stepperino.

So one night Gordito was sitting on the pot and he couldn’t go to the bathroom and he thought to himself, “Dude, you really need to crap or get off the pot…” and that is when a little light came on in his head.

He got dressed and drove himself to Walmart in his Gorditomobile. Walmart always reminded him of a Carnival. Freakos to his left, freakas to his right, the customers looked large and some of them even gruesome in the dim parking lot light. Despite the gloomy exterior of Walmart, Gordito found himself craving a funnel cake and a corn dogolio.

As Gordito walked into the store he smiled at the greeter. Oompa-Loompa-ish the tiny greeter with pearl pink hair handed him a flyer. She smelled of a freshly smoked Marlboro and cheap perfume. Gordito gave her a quick, “How you doin?” wink. She smiled back at him showing a brilliantly white set of teeth and a mouth so wide and lips so red that Gordito was reminded of The Joker.

Moving to the Metamucil aisle Gordito tried to be incognito, however, apparently half of Planito is constapatito because there was a large number of people looking at the various laxatives.

Gordito noticed a chocolate colored boy with a spongy head of hair shaking a bottle of TUMS and yelling Candolo! Candolo! – Gordito let out a chuckle when he heard the boys mother reply, “Bambito, that is not Candy!”.

Waiting patiently for the people to move Gordito thought how funny it was that the aisle that contained the constipation medicine was indeed constipated. He decided to get things moving again by hurriedly stepping in and grabbing his Metamucilo and then slipping past everyone like a large turd in a cramped colon.

Gordito was proud of himself for making a step in the right direction. He marched past the aisles of fattening food and purchased an armful of healthy items. Head held high he stood in line without fear of what others might think of the metamucilo. He just looked at them and thought, “All of you are full of crap!”

Gordito when home and took his Metamucilo. He read in his South Beach Dietini book that it really helps you lose weight and keeps you healthy.

So for now Gordito is still on the pot, but at least he is crapping!

Gordito sends his love – soon he might have to change his name to Flaco!

By Evan Stark

Eddie Renz is an avid fan of Egyptology, Wilbur Smith and bacon. Not a fan of humility but often finds himself humbled when he is around people who understand numbers like the Fibonacci sequence and Pi.

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