Introducing Myrtle

Who is Myrtle? Myrtle, my Myrtle. Well, Myrtle is a guest who appeared while I was studying for the bar -- and stayed. She hasn't yet taken off and keeps hanging around. And I'm increasingly unhappy about it. In fact, it's getting downright ugly.

Ya' see, Myrtle is my pet gut. Yes, my belly. My abdomen. My pudge. My flab. You get the picture...

At first, I didn't mind Myrtle so much. She was unobtrusive, undemanding and didn't make herself noticed. In a way, she was comforting. I've known her for years. She's an old friend who visits from time to time -- although at much more frequent intervals and for longer periods in recent years. But she always went away before. This time? Hmmm.. she's still here, and now it's getting old. And tired. Now, she's started taking my clothes so that I can't wear them anymore and generally overstayed her welcome. She has gotta go. Myrtle must exit the building. She is no longer my pal.

Anyone who has any ideas about how to drop Myrtle -- your thoughts would be appreciated.

And for those who might wonder "Why Myrtle?" Well, I think it's always best to know your enemies and confront them face on, in whatever shape they may be. Some folks name their tumors to focus their energies towards vanquishing them. I've named my gut.

Myrtle.

Rhymes with "girdle" -- I don't want either of them strapped around my midsection.