September 21st, 2020

I thought I was fat as a kid but when I look back on my photos now I see I was anything but plump. There’s me in the backyard looking like I knew something about rugby, ten pounds wringing wet dressed in a tattered top with tighty whitey shorts.
Fast forward to 52. I have had moments of body dysmorphia growing up and now I don’t really care what people think. Well, I didn’t until something came into my life recently. Or actually, someone.
This someone is not who your average middled-age bloke gets involved with. I have developed a relationship with a weird breed of human, some would call them sub-human, the sort of person you find behind a bush watching people, calculating and sizing folks up with their photographic memories. The sort of person who looks for small faults in people to embellish. They don’t say much, they just observe. These sorts of beings are often referred to as cartoonists.
Yes that’s correct, the past year of my life this guy Glenn Robinson, whose signature appears as GROB, has been illustrating my rants and created a new wave of body dysmorphia. I have only met him a few times due to the pandemic but have had hundreds of conversations with him about my weight.
The thing is that while most folks have been “isoing up” with experimental cooking and nothing to do in the day but raid the cookie jar, I have been working hard, and as a result have lost over 10 kilos. But I cannot seem to get that through my cartoonist’s head. I have sent him photos but no, he still has this vision of me 10 kilos heavier plus an extra 30 per cent artist’s discretion. Even this rant did not work, see above right!
Speaking of weird things, The Local has been sent some FOI documents regarding last year’s #Geesegate. You have probably had it up to the back teeth with the geese abduction story, but I still find these FOI documents fascinating. And where are the black swans that where meant to touch down as soon as the geese were gone? You can read all about it in the next editon.
But for now, the geese are gone, like my 10 kilos, and I look skywards for the swans to return, and for my cartoonist to finally trim off a couple of kilos.
Dysmorphia rant over…