Due to the roiling sea of uncertainty that is my life, I’ve managed to drop a few pounds lately. I’d guess about 15 or so. I wish I could credit exercise, diet and clean living; instead, I’d like to thank booze, stress and tobacco for helping me get into a 36 waist again. At first, the compliments were cool: “Hey, someone’s been laying off the Funyuns!” But then I started to feel a bad for ol’ Chunky-but-Funky Sean, who we all know will be back soon enough. Where was the love for his sintastic shape? (I’m 209 now, but I’ve seen the beefy glory of 240. I blame the autumnal munchies.) Maybe when Chunky-but-Funky Sean returns, I should praise my fellow funkies on their joyous plumpness. I’ll make it positive! Big is beautiful! “Hey Larry, did someone win first place in a pie-eating contest? I think so!” Or maybe: “Not many people can consume a pound of bacon in one sitting, Wanda. You have a gift!” For now, I’ll just sit on my flat butt, wait . . . and maybe have a few of these marshmallows.

The Weight, the Band
Drop It Like It’s Hot, Snoop Dogg
Just Lose It, Eminem
Skin Thin, Ben Harper
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother, the Hollies