I'm getting fatter every day.
I can't fit in my red fleece.
I'm embarrassed by what I weigh.
I'm fearfully obese.
I've suggested these new diets:
Atkins, South Beach, even vegan.
But the Missus pretends she can't hear it,
And I know what she's a-thinkin'.
She's just waiting for my end,
When her cooking clogs me completely.
Then she'll have the business to herself
And likely move it to Tahiti.
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