Cherry Poppin’, Fart Wars, Makin Babies & Bankruptcy

November 30th, 2007 at 9:47 am by Diva Howe
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You perverts!! I know you thought to yourself… “Ohhhh, Diva’s done been rollin’ in the woods again.”

No. I’m a good Christian girl and I don’t roll in the woods or anything of that nature. Not anymore anyway, I got married 2 months ago.

Oh, speaking of pervi-ness. It has come to my attention that I am NOT the only one around this place who had no clue what Half Nekkid Thursday was! Go me! Still doesn’t mean I’m gonna tack my rack on my page. (Although it is more of a ragin’ thing that I thought).

Anyhoo… the cherry I refer to is the Christmas song cherry. I am a complete and total karaoke junkie. Why, I dunno. It’s not that I’m any good at it. I think it’s the fact that I can go get hammered and make an ass out of myself and it not bother me.

So, I made the rounds over the long weekend to my favorite waterin’ holes to partake in cold beer and greasy food whilst listening to all the other drunk monkies attempting to sing their own renditions of many-a-song. Sometimes can be scary, sometimes can be totally awesome, sometimes I need earplugs to keep from bleeding out my ears.

It’s after Thanksgiving and not a single holiday ditty had been krooned. WTF? It’s time to get in the spirit and make people accept the fact that they are going to spend more money than Hugh Hefner does on his playmates.

At both Ronnie’s and Coyote Joe’s, I popped the cherry on the beloved Christmas tune, by belting out Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Actually, I only sang it because I felt the need to pull the Grinch out of my ass. I’m not sure if it worked yet.


Me and Big T called a truce on the fart war as he was getting way too serious and thinking of ways to smoke me out. I waved the red flag sometime on Saturday night when he was kicking my ass by close to 10 farts, er points.
Besides it was costing me too much in candles and air freshner to keep the house smelling fresh with that much shit flying.


I have been a really good girl the past couple of days. And Big T has been very cooperative! He’s even trying to cut back and eat healthier with me as a show of support. Not sure how long he’ll last before he caves and sneaks to Burger King for a grease bomb, but he’s got my undying gratitude for not doing it in front of me.

I have sucked down ungodly amounts of water rather than Diet Dew and Diet Coke. I have kicked Taco Hell to the curb (last I heard, they’re about to file bankruptcy). The fridge is filled with healthy crap like you’d find at a fat farm and we’re actually eating it. My ass has even managed to hoof out 3+ miles a day on the treadmill at increasingly increasing speeds. Go me.

Swear to God, there is no way my ass is buying new fat clothes after I gave all the old ones away and done went out and bought all new smaller clothes last year. Not gonna do it.


On the baby makin’ front, we gots a big fat strike out. No bun in the oven over here yet. I reckon since the doctor said my fat ass needs to lose a few pounds before actively pursuing baby makin. I have to admit I was sort of bummed out when I had to make my way to Walgreens for Midol, tampons and bon-bons (actually I got Diet Dew, not bon bons…).

I can only assume that I knew I wasn’t pregnant because I had a wicked mean bout with PMS this week and felt like I was going to strangle several people for relatively small and mostly harmless offenses.

S.O.S. (Taco Bell’s A-Goin’ Bankrupt)

November 27th, 2007 at 1:48 pm by Diva Howe
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I lost 70 pounds last year. I gave away all of my “fat clothes” and went on a serious shopping spree. Then BAM! All of my newly acquired, smaller sizes are officially snug to the point that my eyes feel like they’re gonna pop out when I try to button my jeans. I’ve packed 30 pounds back on.

I went down to a sexy, curvy 16. REOW. Ooops, I’ve managed to get back up somewhere between a big 18 and a small 20. I’d be totally fine if it wasn’t for Taco Bell and chinese food.

No, I don’t want any cheese to go with my whine… LOL. I swear to Larry, Curly & Moe that I’m not whining at all. I’m just letting you kids know that if you hear me talking about bean burritos, custard Krisy Kreme donuts or sesame chicken w/eggroll, you can kick my ass for me and remind me that I should be in step class, not the fast food line. See how it works?

I’ll be honest, afterall, I’m amongst friends. I’m flat lazy and wussed out of going to the gym like I should have.

I loved the gym and looking at all the hot dudes with well defined legs and massive arms. Hell, I even loved looking at the hottie girls that have dedicated their gym time to maintaining that hottiness. I know that ain’t right, but remember I’m being honest here. Whoever says people don’t pay attention to the other people in a gym is full of shit.

So, today I started out very well. I got up this morning, packed my bag and went to the gym immediately after work. I trotted at a leisurely 3 to 3.5 MPH on the treadmill. I managed to crank out just under 3.5 miles before I decided I’d had enough. Made me want to throw up on the extremely fit fella right next to me that was running his ass off and didn’t even get out of breath. But, then again, who’s fault is that? I think I cursed myself to gain the weight back when I wrote that friggin blog about gluttony.

So boys and girls… Wish me luck. Wish me back into a sexy size.

Old and Fat… Just Say It

November 19th, 2007 at 10:46 am by Diva Howe
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It dawned on me over the weekend, and it saddens me greatly. Big T and I started talking about creating a clone shortly after we married (2 months ago).

This is great news and I couldn’t be any more tickled for real. Growing a mini-T in the oven. It’s beautiful.

So, what’s so sad about about it, you might be asking. Well, I’ll tell ya.

I decided with my advancing age (an astounding 37 years), that maybe I should go see Dr. Brad and get official clearance that my oven is still capable of baking without undercooking or burning the buns.

Now don’t you fret, kids. The news is nothing Earth shattering. Just a FAT reality check.

1st. I’m getting old. Dammit. If a body is in the 35+ age group and goes to the OB/GYN and tell them that you’re gonna have hot monkey sex and procreate… LORD HAVE MERCY. Red flags start flying up, sirens start sounding throughout the office, and a big fat sticker goes on your chart. Dayum.

In fact, simply because I’m post-35 (apparently well into middle age), I will have to go through the joys of doctor visits nearly double what I did with my last clone (16 years ago).

2nd. Dr. Brad looks at me all serious during the consultation after the exam (ewwww!)… and says, “We strongly suggest you drop 45-50 pounds before actively pursuing pregnancy.”

I sat there for a minute. Depressed already that I am old and I saw the sticker stating such on my chart….
before asking Dr. Brad, “So, why didn’t you just tell me I’m old and fat? Wouldn’t that be exactly what you’re saying? Besides, you aren’t telling me anything these crows feet around my eyes and the scale haven’t already disclosed.”

“Well, no. It’s just that with your age..” He started.

“Fine, I’ll go to the gym. But I think you should just start being honest with your patients. Old and fat, buddy.”

He smiled that doctor smile when he realized I wasn’t, in fact, pissed off and about to go hormonal on him and his entire staff.

It’s Official: Diva is a…

July 10th, 2007 at 10:19 am by Diva Howe
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SLOTH.

I went into sloth-remission last year and got into excellent shape.  I lost more than 70 pounds.  I was wearing slutty tight jeans and looking pretty good in them.  I had enough self confidence that I even scared me a time or three.  I was attracting ample attention from the opposite sex.  I wasn’t the fat Pirate anymore.  I blended in well with the other girlies.  I was becoming a certified hottie patoddie. 

Then…  around turkey day… I lost my motivation or ate way to much turkey with dressing and punkin pie or something.  I started eating everything in sight that even looked like it had a carb attached to it.  I quit going to the gym like I was.  My butt went from being touchably firm back to jiggly like a bowl of jello.  Of course, poured into the jeans, nobody could tell.  But I could tell.

I’m still down several sizes from where I started.  Thank God, because I gave all of my fat clothes away and bought new.  They just don’t fit as comfortably as they did.  I find myself having to hold my breath… ALOT! Didn’t take long before I started to get more and more miserable. 

Now here it is summer.  The season I spent the whole of last fall dreaming of, only to wake up and realize… I had failed.  I’m not beach worthy.  I’m not bathing suit worthy. 

I honestly do know what the problem with my motivation is and I am actively working on a resolution to it.  I couldn’t beat ’em, so I joined ’em.

I have quit with the Taco Bell, Papa John’s and Booger King.  I have stopped sneaking into the kitchen and scarfing down a couple cookies here, a few chips there.  And most importantly, I’m not just spending ungodly amounts of money on a gym membership. No longer will it just be an expense sucked out of my bank account.  No. 

I have started doing cardio and group exercize classes again.  I have started eating healthy again.  For my health’s sake.

I had forgotten how good I felt when I was working out and eating right.  It wasn’t just the ability to wear skanky clothes.  It’s more internal than that.  I liked the way I felt.   I had energy. I had attitude. 

So, here I go again.  Wish me luck.  I have a wedding dress to fit into in 2 months and 19 days…

Great Places to Eat in Knoxville

May 23rd, 2007 at 4:07 pm by Mark Steel
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     Okay, I’m not much for memes, viral nature and all.  I mean, crap, I skipped out on the last one Tish tagged me with because, well, I know what Web 2.0 is, and the meme author apparently had a very limited view of it.  All I could’ve put was “my blog,” so I was kinda like … well … Stuck.

     This one, though, has a pretty good purpose: finding some great places to eat locally, or when we’re travelling around.  And so, I’m pretty happy to answer this one from LissaKay, because … well … I’m a big fan of food.  I try and eat some a few times a day.  (And I’m fortunate enough to have a highly trained metabolism that allows me to eat like it’s my last my meal.)

     This one’s originally by Chronicles of Nicole, and comes to us all the way from Sydney, Australia.

1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the city/state and country you’re in.

Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, USA)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Todd (Louisville, Kentucky, United States)
miss kendra (los angeles, california, u.s.a)
Jiggs Casey (Berkeley, CA, USA! USA! USA!)
Tits McGee (New England, USA)
Joe (NE Tennessee, USA)
10K Monkeys (Chattanooga, Tennessee, USA)
Big Stupid Tommy (Athens, Tennessee, USA)
Newscoma (Weakley County, Tennessee, USA)
Russ McBee (Knoxville, Tennessee, USA)
Atomictumor Mrs Eaves (Oak Ridge, Tennessee, USA)
Oh Really? LissaKay (Oak Ridge, TN, USA)
Mark Steel blogitude.com (Knoxville, TN, USA)

2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location.

My Place - Yes, I can cook.  And I’m pretty damn good at it, too, as long as you like spicy food.  I specialize in Southern Asian (Indian/Thai/Malay), Italian (like the 20-pound lasagne or Sicilian-style meat-sauce) and TexMex (it burns most Mexicans).

Ali Baba’s TimeOut Deli (Kingston Pike) - I’ve known those guys for the better part of twenty years.  Absolutely the best humos in the world, and I’ve certainly traveled it enough to know… And you can never go wrong with the “special,” King Solomon’s Chicken — a slow-roasted hen in a tasty lemon-seed marinade, with a couple of vegetable sides over basmati rice.

Tomo (Kingston Pike) - The Sushi/Sashimi connoisseur can never go wrong here.  Everything there is perfectly fresh and delicious, and the dinner service is most excellent.  Perfect … but certainly not inexpensive.  I can’t get out of there without spending at least $50 on myself.  But I certainly leave happy…

Chesapeake’s Seafood (Henley Street) - Dinner dining includes a full course of a Mussel Appetizer, choice of Salad, Maine Lobster with two sides, and some impressive Cheesecake all for less than what it costs at the nasty chain restaurant that everyone goes to (the one with Lobster in the title)… and impeccable service that rivals many of the 5-Stars I’ve dined in.  Daily fresh fish of the Sushi-grade variety … I really enjoy the Yellow Tail (No, Benny, I’m not talking about the Chinese girl).

Sitar (Kingston Pike) - Sometimes, I find it’s too much of a chore to cook Indian Food, so I hit this place for the Sunday afternoon buffet.  Although they don’t have a Vindaloo on it (aww!) they have several other incredibly tasty dishes which change weekly.  One of the best things about the place, tho, as compared to most other Indian restaurants in the area, is that everything’s nice and spicy, and they have a distinct lack of clarified butter (ghee).  That’s what causes the kerosene-like aftertaste at some Indian restaurants — and I hate it.  Since a lot of Indians use ghee at home, it comes as no big surprise that India leads the world in cases of throat cancer…

Country Table (N. Cherry Street) - Southern, home cooking all the way… Turnip greens, pinto beans, mashed potatos and gravy, country fried steak (and it’s awesome), T-bone steaks (however you want it!), pork tenderloins (which I can’t eat, dammit! Pork makes me really sick), buttermilk biscuits, good southern cornbread (not that sweet shit they serve up north), and all the coffee and iced tea you can drink.  I do lunch there every now again if I’m working in East Knoxville, and totally love the place.  A lot of people simply won’t check it out because of the location … but I never did care about that.

3. Tag 5 Others

Swanky - This guy like to eat as much as I do, and has intimate knowlege of some of the Knoxville metro’s best dives — and will undoubtedly list more of my favorites.

ChattieKat - She grew up here in Knoxville, and should be able to drop in a few that Swanky and I miss.

Anton - Anton showed me a couple of really kickass places in Houston a few weeks ago.

Fracas - I like to research my food choices ahead of time.  And on the odd chance that I’m ever in Saskatoon, I’d like to find some place else better to eat than that craphole truck stop diner on the highway…

Zacque - Fellow blogitude.com writer who recently buggered off to Nashville, and it’s about time he took a break from ravaging his girlfriend and wrote a blog for a change.  ;-)

     So that’s that… Meanwhile, I’m gonna go to Ali Baba’s for a Special…

Lame Things I’ve Heard, Part Deux

May 21st, 2007 at 1:51 pm by Diva Howe
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Seriously, kids, I don’t make this crap up. But I absolutely love that people say such stupid things. I find it amazing that people really come off with such utterly ignorant blurbs. In addition to giving me something to blog about, it usually amuses me greatly. And boy, did this one amuse me…

Part Deux

***Tan fat is so much prettier than white fat***

I literally did a double take at the skank standing next to me as I was checking into the tanning bed this Saturday past. It took everything in me not to fall over in the floor and gut laugh. What?!?! Tan fat?

Hello, sweetheart. I’m here tanning, too. And I’ll be honest. I see nothing pretty about tan fat as opposed to white fat. Seriously, if you are fat, then you have fat rolls, say like a Shar Pei puppy, right?

Let me help you get a visual on this one, sister. Do you really think that having tan parts intermingled with the white fat rolls is pretty?

God bless the stand-up tanning bed, you can put your arms up in the air and alleviate those pesky white spots.

Yup, yup. Chalk another one up to one of the lamest things I’ve ever heard.

Scientific Fact: Fat Floats!

April 16th, 2007 at 12:38 pm by Diva Howe
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From Fox News:

A 35-year-old Orlando man can thank his 300-pound girth for helping save his life after he jumped off a cruise ship and drifted 20 miles for more than eight hours with a collapsed lung before rescuers found him in the Atlantic Ocean.

Regardless whether I knew my fat would float or not, I would not be jumping off of a perfectly fit rowing boat. That’s just lame. But, Michael Mankamyer did it. More than one witness has come around and said that “he jumped”.

Despite reports that he had “fallen” overboard, theoretically there is no way that could happen. It’s not like he was some tiny little thing that just slipped through the safety rail. No. This is a 300 pound fella.

Now, if you’ve seen the picture of this guy, the story might be explained. He just looks like that kind of goofy, attention-whore who will do anything to be in the class clown and/or the center of attention. You know, the college buddy who always got tanked before midnight and by half past, he was hanging naked from the roof of the frat house.
Jeez, buddy. Couldn’t ya have just talked all of your pals into a bad night of drinking and karaoke?

That’s it. I’ve made a snap decision to stop dieting and to stop going to the gym.
So, if on my honeymoon, I get tanked and take a wrong turn and fall off a big old rowing boat, I’ll be able to float around until they come back to find my fat behind.

He’s just lucky the Pirates weren’t out and about or he would have gotten so dunked for nothing more than being less than genius.

Back Away from the Donut, Lardbutt!

April 13th, 2007 at 12:28 pm by Diva Howe
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Once in while (wink, wink) I’ll hear, see or read something that just gets my panties all in a wad.

I have several ’sore subjects’, but the one that makes gets my dander up more than anything is the fat people of the world looking for something to blame it on. PLEASE.

As one who has struggled for just shy of one year to lose damn near 70 pounds, I can tell ya this:

  • No, fat is not genetic
  • No, you don’t have big bones
  • No, you can’t lose weight by starving yourself or taking pills.

Fat people are fat because they have not made the decision to motivate and get moving.

There is no miracle pill that you can take to make fat melt. There is no miracle cream that you can rub on your thighs and make them magically disappear into thin air.

Short of surgery, which is an extremely ill idea to begin with, there is only one answer to the timeless question asked of the rolly-polly types: I wonder how I can lose this weight?

Here’s a few pointers (from the master, herself):

  1. Step away from the donut. The donut is evil. The donut will find it’s way down your throat and into your guts, where it will then be disbursed and particles of that donut will live in your hips and double chin forever. Other foods that should be in diet hell are: snicker bars, cheesecake, lasagna, loaded potato soup, all mexican food.
  2. Taco Bell has always been my weakness. However, one day whilst in a bored situation, I was reading what actually goes into some fast food food. EEEWWWWW.If the fact that most fast food is swimming in grease, lard, oil or someother non-digestable mess isn’t enough to keep you out of the french fries, then go one night around 10 and watch the fry guy at McDonald’s empty that big vat of yack that they fry everything in. MMMMMM, MMMMM, Good, I tell ya. Makes me wanna spew.
  3. Starvation. Um, if you don’t give your body something healthy to eat, it’s wired up to know that your dumb ass is trying to starve it. Ask me, what’s my body gonna do if I don’t eat??? Your body is gonna hold on to every single nasty, blobby little molecule of cellulose that it can. You will not lose anything if you starve because your body will be freaking out thinking it’s never going to get to eat again, so it holds onto what it already has. One must eat to lose weight. Funny huh?
  4. Get your fat ass on a treadmill!! My fat ass started out doing 15 minutes at 1.5 miles an hour on the treadmill. And amazingly, what those dang nutritionists and exercise therapists have been saying all along was true. YOU GOTTA DO BOTH DIET AND EXERCISE!!!!You can’t sit around and be a slug. Get off your butt and walk around a little amigo. Your body will thank you for it.

So, I guess the bottom line is, you’re only fat if you choose to be fat. I’m a sport, I can admit it, I’m still a little fluffy around certain sections. But I’ve learned that I can’t blame anyone but me for letting me get out of control. I was a scale tipper, and its a battle everyday.

This is why it chaps my ass to hear all this bull-caca about fat being genetic and fat being a disease…

I stand here today, calling BULLshit, DEFCON 5!