In the medical world it would be defined a 'sign' but initially to the self observer we would say, this is a symptom of VD.
VD you shout quietly in your own mind! OMG she's not going THERE is she?
Now of course we first examine the definition of VD, which is any disease characteristically transmitted by sexual contact.
A symptom is defined as subjective evidence of disease or physical disturbance observed by the patient.
A sign is defined as the objective indications of a disease.
Does food bring you satisfaction and completion in the ways that you would compare to orgasm? You scoff now but take your time and you will come back time and time again to agree with me, true appreciation for food is a sensory overload.
Should we not discuss the signs and symptoms of the diseases created by the Frigidaire?
Perhaps she doesn't have the beguiling curves that you'd find on a table lamp or the cushy welcoming embrace of the sofa but there is something oh so alluring about that box that brings us back again and again.
A siren's song silently beckons us without our conscious knowledge, we are oft tempted again and again. Fingers wrapped tightly around the handle to jerk open the door and expose the wonderful delights from within.
The door now yawning, brightly lit from within it now exposes the delights that would soon light upon our lips.
A moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips (that's definitely VD if you ask me).
It starts out with a few nibbles of cheese in the middle of the night. A cube of Cheddar or a slice of American and then that's later followed by some reheated spaghetti that you had for last night's dinner. Wow, that's so good, you'd better wash that down with a cold glass of milk.
Perchance a slice of chocolate cream pie? I spy buttermilk biscuits at the ready.
Yes, it's 2:12 a.m. but you rationalize that dinner was at 6 p.m. and you are hungry and you always skip breakfast which is the most important meal of the day.
Each time you come back to visit your gleaming rectangular gal resplendent in her magnetic dress of white (or almond or black or if your fancy! stainless!) she is ready to give you something tasty to stuff into your mouth.
Just like crack addicts, we rarely realize that we are addicted until we are at our lowest and need an intervention or we've just hit rock bottom and there's no turning back. Just one more nibble, one more bite, one more taste. Each of these are packing on the ounces, then the pounds and the next thing that happens is we are unable to recognize ourselves when we go to look in the mirror.
Who have we become?
The disease, the symptoms were so slow to recognize even though they were there!
Ugh, I've gotta loosen these pants about half way through dinner.
Hey, did you run the last wash on hot because I think you shrank all of my denim!
My boobs are getting bigger!
Does my ass look fat in these pants?
Get your own dessert, I'm eating this one.
(3 a.m.) Let's go get pancakes, I'm starving. Get dressed? no, nothing fits I'll just wear sweatpants.
The symptoms continue to grow until they are bright neon lights (SIGNS) for everyone to see!
"SHE'S FAT!
SHE'S FAT!
PUT THE FORK DOWN ALREADY!
CHAIN THE REFRIGERATOR SHUT"
No matter what, those around you will still love you. They aren't helping you help yourself however! (BASTARDS!)
No one wants to hurt someone's feelings when it comes to their weight, well not until they get into a fight and then it's a free for all!
Instead, we are most likely to sit back and watch our friends get progressively fat.
Interestingly enough though - if our friends get sickeningly THIN we'll step in and stop that shit in a hurry. No fucking way are we going to let someone get skinny.
Don't you go and get anorexic. Seems that the disease Anorexia has more of a following than Obesity, it must be scarier because you look more like a skeleton rather than a cuddly something-or-another.
Fluffy = cute. Emaciated = dead?
There doesn't seem to be an in-between for most of us since the majority of anyone I know are borderline neurotic about something or another in their lives so why not obsess about weight and/or food while we are at it.
I decided - all of the weight I've gained is simply the symptoms of the VD I've caught from my refrigerator.
She is a dirty whore and I'm a junkie.
I could sure go for a Twinkie right about now.
