First, a disclaimer. Elmer does not exist. No—that is not right. Elmer does exist. He is just not Elmer. “Elmer” is what I am calling Elmer in place of using Elmer’s name. This is so that you will not know who Elmer is. So if you know an actual Elmer—and in particular if you know one in Jerusalem—and you read this post and you think “is she BLIND???? Elmer’s ass is butt ugly!”, please note the following:
1) I am not talking about Elmer.
2) I do not even know Elmer.
3) I completely agree with you about Elmer’s ass. An ass that large is a Crime Against Nature. Or Humanity. Or both.
I hope that this clarifies matters.
A few weeks ago, in an effort to resuscitate Roxie, my by-then neglected and depressed-to-the-point-of-suicidal-thoughts diet, I joined a diet support group. Last week, the group leader gave us an assignment. Each of us was to come up with positive mantras about NOT eating that we could use to counter-act the negative mantras we use to justify eating. So, for example, if you tell yourself “I need this” to justify eating chocolate, you start saying “I do not need this”. Clever, no? Anyway, I thought and thought and thought, and eventually I came up with two mantras of my very own. The first one is “it’s only six months”, because the group ends in six months. And then I can eat whatever I want. The second one is “if you lose weight, and become really hot, maybe you will have the opportunity to become better acquainted with Elmer’s ass”. Elmer being, in my humble opinion, the owner of what may be the best ass in Jerusalem.
[As an aside--just in case any of you have any concerns in respect to my virtue, you will be happy to note that my virtue, such as it may be, is perfectly safe. Unfortunately.]
Right, so those are my mantras, and I am quite pleased with them. I decided to share them with my friend Katrina Yellow (AKA Kat, the exercise Nazi). Not surprisingly, she was not particularly enthused with mantra number one. “DUDE! This is a lifetime change! Not just six months! Otherwise you are just going to get fat again!” The second mantra, however, she likes very much. In fact, she likes it so much that she has taken to screaming it at me, at the top of her lungs, while we are running. “PUSH IT! THINK ABOUT ELMER’S ASS!” And try as I might, I cannot get her to stop. What Kat does not seem to understand is just how small Jerusalem is. Those of you not familiar with Jerusalem, might think that it is a big city. We have half a million inhabitants. But as anyone who has lived here can tell you, Jerusalem is really a small town. Think of it as a Kibbutz whose steroid use has gone terribly, terribly wrong. Everyone seems to know or know of everyone else. So it is only a matter of time before someone who knows Elmer hears us and then goes back to Elmer and tells him that some madwoman in the San Simon park was running around and hollering about his ass. And then I will have to die of embarrassment. And if that is going to be my end, I may as well have the chocolate, no?
Ahhh well...it is only six months.