Greetings from the War

Why is it that when we finally put our heads on the chopping block and look at the number between our toes, we turn around and want to beat the kids? You know as well as I - how your ass got that big. You knew what you were doing "when ya-done did it".

In an effort to express to the world the seriousness for which I am truly disgusted by my weight - please accept the Minutes of the following White House briefing my body held, in the "situation room" aka the bathroom.

My Mind: I gathered all you organs here today at this press conference to offer a briefing on the tactics for which we have decided to disengage the enemy. It is about time we draw back the FATTY-ban. Our president will not accept these sneak attacks that have been creeping up on us. The Central Intelligence Agency (Mirrors outside of my house) have been catching glimpses of an increase in fattyban activity especially in the area of the stomach.

BCUIC (Brain cells United in Creativity): Sir, where is General Nonsense, doesn't he usually head these briefings?

MY MIND: General Nonsense had a conflict of interest with the core. After his operation "WISH-IT-AWAY-AND-IT-WILL-GO" failed and drew us into tons of debt we had to see to it that he was relieved of his duties. He was also not a great follower of the DON'T ASK-DON'T TELL CLause and kept spewing out his 2 cents to the enemy in front of the Central Intelligence Agencies.

Rep from KBN (Kidney Broadcasting Network): We hear there has been increased activity in the release of fluids - Is this true? What of the explosions being expelled from the anus region? The black gold that has been exploding without warning?


MY Mind: We have information on that and have begun our investigation. The stomach has been ambushed repeatedly over the last few days. The guerilla attacks have been ferocious. At certain points, without warning they have even used tear and nerve gas causing our hull (my body) to twitch like Flava Flave. We have deployed more troops to the "Lips" checkpoint. They have been checking passports and papers for all objects entering and departing from that point. We are on top of it.

Rep from OTGB (ORgans That Growl Broadcasting): Who is taking responsibility for these attacks? Where are these guerillas coming from?

MY MInd: (Clutching the podium and adjusting its stance) We don't know. We aren't sure. NO one group has accepted responsibility. We have the notion it was the LEAN CUISINES, or Grandmas Rice but at this point we aren't certain. Our major concern is the settlements of "FAT" refugees that have settled on the plains of the ASS.

Rep from ATCSS (Areas That Can Smell Studios) Are they cottage cheese refugees? Or some other nationality.

My MInd: They aren't of the cottage cheese variety. However, we aren't taking any chances. Fashion has been good to the fat girl this season, so we are purchasing more of those cloaking devices to carry out our mission. While our hull walks around in a sheet. We will be going to work on the stomach and the ass areas.

A spy from the liver interrupts the meeting. Darting towards the podium and whispering something to My Mind. MY mind puts on a face of shock and decides to close the meeting.

MY MInd: This meeting has to be drawn to a close immediately. We have an emergency crisis on our hands.

KBN: Sir what is it???

My MInd: The Guerrilla's have the liver suspended over a body of water and are threatening to blow it up. The hull may not have enough oxygen to hold off this attack. We have to send troops.