And you think I'm sexy,
C'mon, Baby, help me outta these pants.
I walk funny. I don't know what other word to use for it. I tend to lean to the left side, the stronger side, and throw out my hips to keep upright. The way I walk has sent me to physical therapy 3 times too many and I've only gone 3 times. But I hated it each time. Well, that's not entirely true. The last time when I went for the bursitis from the way I walk, which messed up my hips, they did this massage thing to my saddlebags that felt good and made me almost forget that they were massaging the worst part of my body. Nothing like having someone hitch up your shorts to expose the fattest part of your body, then proceed to rub and massage it to make one feel that maybe they need to go to the gym. To combat this problem, I have found that if I wear tight pants it keeps my hips in line and makes me walk right. My little sister says I look like the picture above in my pants. Or like a jumbo soft serve ice cream in a kiddie cone. Or a muffin who is about to burst out of it's muffin paper. She can really wax creative when seeing me in my pants. I usually try to wear a long shirt or a sweatshirt to cover my overhang, but the other day when we were bowling on the Wii, my shirt kept coming up and showing off the tightness of my pants and the distress of my soft serve ice cream about to burst out of it's cone. I think they were jealous because I bowled a 182 and they were barely over a 100; they even laughed at the way I did my bowling form and kicked out my leg -- years of bowling league are really paying off for me right now. I have some loose pants that I will wear sometimes, but by the end of the day my hips are killing me and the ghost of physical therapy past haunts my dreams all night, making me return to my too tight pants the next day. I know it looks ridiculous and like someone who won't admit they need a bigger size, but I am okay with all that. The relief from hip pain makes my venturing out in plier pants worth it. Who cares that I need a small army to get back out of them? Not me! For something that isn't a major problem (except to those who have it) bursitis is very painful and a major fun killer. As much as I love to have my saddlebags be the focus of attention, I'd rather keep that bulge to myself. And if I look like a jumbo soft serve in a kiddie cone, I'm comfortable with that. If my muffin papers are straining to hold in my bulk, I don't care. As long as I keep bursitis at bay I will look like Patrick in Spongebob's pants and happily whistle Rod Stewart the whole day. The insults don't bother me, but the pain from my gimpy walk does.