Carrots, belts and many moons

This sucks, this is totally unfair, unjust and on the brink of criminality. I can no longer eat whatever I want and keep my George Clooney body. Call it ageing, call it karma, call it revenge for all the hilarious fat people jokes I've spit out but I need to actually veer off my current flight pattern or get a pre 30 belly and buy new pants. I was going to lend a trick-money-belt to a friend but trying it on and realized it aint be fittin no mo.
The last month has been bad, I nearly eliminated vegetables and meals, doubled my pizza intake to quadweekly, hamburgers weekly and carbs flowing out my ass can no longer be sustained by my metabolism. All this might be fine but coupled with my ideaology that I can skip supper and just go to bed when I get hungry always fails and leaves me eating a cheese wiz and (fill in the blanks) at midnight laughing at Ron Reush and his santa gut. Kate suggested Light Beer but I reminded her I wasnt trying to become less not-gay rather less not-skinny. I think I am going to have to go drastic here and cut out the cookies, cheese wiz and use my year and a half of uni-biology and bio-engineer myself some cookie flavored celery and choco-carrots. I might order something from Tony Little as well. Speed seems to make everyone more George Clooneyesque.