The Jowls of Life

The jowls are the secret to it all. They hold the key to my fitness woes. I mean goals, not woes, but goals. If I can rid myself of these damn jowls then everything will be just fine. Is that even possible, to rid oneself of jowls, or is it that once you get them you have them forever? Sort of like herpes or syphilis. My hope is that jowls are more like a foot fungus or boob cheese, something that can be gotten rid of? I want to know these things. I need to know these things. If jowls are like herpes and syphilis and there is no way of getting rid of them, then perhaps I should say screw it to my current fitness routine, that I have grown to love, and return to the days of Boston Baked Beans, Peter Piper Pizza, Coke Slurpees and Entenmanns for the rest of my jowlful life. Woe is me.

Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. Within the past year or so I have noticed some slight drooping in the face. I am starting to develop jowls. Or sure, right now they’re little, they’re small, they’re cute and cuddly. But give them an inch and they’ll droop a mile. If I don’t nip them in the bud now one day I might look like this guy.

Remember him? Remember how he used to look in his prime? I used to look that way too. Well, not exactly, but in my own way I was fab.

I am not at the point where I can snip the little bastards off with a pair of gardening shears or a one of those really sharp Japanese knifes used to slice blowfish. No, I’m not there yet, but I can see that day coming. One day I’ll perform my own brand of plastic surgery and I won’t need no stinkin’ anesthesia. I’ll just carve them off and flush them down the toilet so when I get to the ER there will be zero chance of having them reattached. HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!

Years ago a friend of mine showed me this ridiculous book she had by Morgan Fairchild. It was a book on beauty routines. The book gave tips on how to keep your face expressionless at all times in order to avoid wrinkles and aging. Smiles should be creaseless. Never raise your eyebrows and don’t squint. No lines, no seams, no creases equals no wrinkles. At the time I laughed at the book. I called it utter nonsense. I wish I had that book now. Morgan Fairchild was a genius and I was too dumb to know it.

It’s the time of year to make a resolution, a resolution of change. Mine is to rid myself of these dastardly jowls. And I’ll do it, by God I’ll do it. As God as my witness I’ll never have jowls again! It may require slicing and dicing the bloody things off while screaming bloody murder; my preferred choice is through diet and exercise. Come 2010, I plan to be jowless. Because I’d rather be jowless than joyless.

And now, I officially proclaim all photos taken of me from here on out must only be shot from the lower lip up.

Obviously, the person taking this picture knew what the hell he was doing. In actuality, my baby jowls only show up when I‘m not smiling. So, 2009 is going to be the year of smiles. Smiles everyone smiles; because while I may be miserable on the inside, I’ll be jowl-less on the outside.