Man have I been eating good lately. Like a king... with bad grammar. When ma and pa Evans return to Tulsa, I'm going to have a hard time adjusting to the Mcdonalds dollar menu. For instance, I ate the quiche of my life today. Last night I had the best steak imaginable. The cow that provided my dinner must have been just downright sexy. Weird.
The point is, I no longer need a belt. But who cares? Belts are overrated.
However, starting Friday, I will be going on a diet of Metamucil and bran. Not even raisin bran. Just bran. Maybe even some Amber tea. Basically things that will turn my intestines into the trombone section of Mahler's seventh symphony.
Hey, maybe I could slap a couple of scriptures on each daily dose and sell it to Christians. I could call the... Hallepoojah diet.
Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night.