Fun with Few Carbs

I’ve got donuts on my mind but I did not eat any deep fried temptation. No, it was a half a raisin bagel with cream cheese.

Okay, I slathered it on in a big piggish smear but it wasn’t a donut.

I may have felt safe because I do not eat pasta the way the people who populate Fellini’s Roma eat pasta. If you are having a hard time cutting out the carbos watch Roma. So much fatty flesh.

I accept that voluptuous women turned up to 11 on the porky scale can be sexy. I get that all the generous-figured women are meant to represent the magnificent, sensual Bachanalian lust for life and Rome on the grand scale.  I just imagine not being able to breathe well. I feel the habitually distended stomach pushing against the surrounding organs, cramping their operating style.

It does not seem sexy.

On a non-fattening note, I may have a custom donut job coming through. Someone asked if I could do this devil’s-food-with-white-icing donut pillow in a different color.

I love incorporating other’s suggestions.

It’s fun. It’s positive interaction. I have been bouyed on the wings of this sort of cooperation and I can work in my cozy little cottage. Deeelight!

Dig this: “Doing some thing where play is at the heart of every interaction is implicitly political.” That quote is from Russel Wilcox a laser engineer at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory. I read it in Daniel Pinchbeck’s Breaking Open the Head.

I felt I had to interject that piece of wisdom because I so often talk about fun. In my world fun does not need to be justified.

Octo Rosie has her eye on you.


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