Mardi Gras was this week, also known as Fat Tuesday. Personally, I like to think of fat as more of a Tuesday-through-Sunday kind of thing. You might be wondering: what about Fat Monday? Well, like my fine feline friend, Garfield, I also hate Mondays.
Speaking of Garfield, my girlfriend and I were browsing Ross Dress for Less—the go-to store when your belt decides it’s had enough and walks out of your life every other month. At this rate, I’m thinking of switching to suspenders. Not only would they be more practical for my ever-expanding waistline, but they’d also give me that rugged lumberjack aesthetic. I could look like Paul Bunyan!
…Or, in my case, Paul Funyuns. And let me tell you, it stopped being fun about three or four bags ago. Now, every time I call my girlfriend babe, I can’t help but picture her as a giant blue ox. It’s not my fault—I need something to make me feel better about my size 2X flannel. At this point, I’m one more X away from “three strikes, you’re out.”
Anyway, where was I before I got distracted by snacks? Oh right—Ross. We were there shopping for my new wardrobe of togas (or, as I like to call them, muumuus for men), when I came across a Garfield wallet. And in that moment, I had a revelation: I need that… so my wallet can be just as fat.
Because let’s be honest—writing anecdotes doesn’t exactly pay the bills. Actually, it doesn’t pay anything at all. But maybe, just maybe, if I owned the Garfield wallet, it would somehow work its magic and stuff itself with cash. I could finally become a fat cat—the kind of guy who can actually afford a trip to New Orleans to celebrate Mardi Gras properly.
It’s ironic that New Orleans is so big (pun intended) on Fat Tuesday when lean is right there in the name. It must be amazing to see the parade and have beads thrown at you. Though, knowing me, I’d mistake the beads for beans, eat them, and officially earn my third X.
