Ode to Tummy

To: Tummy,

I think it's time you go. I'm only 24 this year, and I'm not prepared to have you urmm... weighing me down. Your presence has been unsightly and uncomfortable. I can't fit into my Bon Jovi tight leather black pants no more, nor can I fit snugly in baby yellow t-shirts.

Keeping you around serves absolutely zero use, except maybe prevent me from seeing my own toes so I wouldn't know when I ought to be trimming my toenails. Our love-hate relationship has dragged on far too long. I cannot find it in me to refuse you the chocolates, cakes, cheese, ice-creams, pastas, cookies, chips, pizzas, pratas, teh tariks, and Mc. I can't gather enough determination to exercise enough to kill you off either.

You really should go, since my girlfriend is getting fascinated with you. I don't like you urmm.... getting in our way. Come back when I'm 45 alright? Come when your other merry friends drop by for a visit. There's diabetes, high blood pressure, and high cholestrol( the evil one). The 5 of us would make a happy boyband, yes like Backstreet Boys. But I get to be the cool one with goatee and aloof look.

Farewell, for now.