Frank the Pretender
When Frank was young(er), he carried a physique not unlike many other people his age... pleasantly plump and rolly. As time passed and he became aware of more food, Frank interestingly began to become much more selective in his diet. If a dish was presented to him, he would ritually scrutinize it in search of what he simply termed "the green." Now, "the green" was not a singular substance such as broccoli or beans. It was anything in the Creator's catologue that radiated light in the green wavelength.
Frank would not discriminate on size. If he saw green on the molecular level, sometimes even if his imagination proposed that something was green when the rest of the crew could find none, the food was shunned with disdain. No amount of weeping done at his knees by the women nor threats against his well-being made by the males would move him. Even bribery was repelled with the stead-fastness of the orthodox. Frank was an oak.
Needless to say, biology began to take over and Frank's reserves of adorable baby fat were tapped by his body. The furnace must remain lit. This, coupled with his patented exercise regiment of "pretending" has kept Frank quite slender.
A word more here must be taken regarding the art of "pretending." The Asians have their various martial arts. Many in India (along with Sting and Madonna) have embraced yoga. Others find weight lifting, bicycling, swimming, jogging, etc. to their liking. I submit that there is no programme under the sun, or peddled on late-night infomercials, that can compete with "pretending." I myself have tried it and after mere moments in its engagement have found myself unable to stand or even recognize simple shapes due to the energy demands made by the discipline. In short, imagine tai-chi on acid. The body surrenders itself entirely to the will of the mind and attempts to act out it's various scenarios, which to a seven-year old constitute impossible action on a level that would make the Terminator hang it's robotic cranium in shame.
Thus, Frank maintains a body that while not quite skelital in appearance, would be the envy behind the scenes of any Versace runway show.
Frank would not discriminate on size. If he saw green on the molecular level, sometimes even if his imagination proposed that something was green when the rest of the crew could find none, the food was shunned with disdain. No amount of weeping done at his knees by the women nor threats against his well-being made by the males would move him. Even bribery was repelled with the stead-fastness of the orthodox. Frank was an oak.
Needless to say, biology began to take over and Frank's reserves of adorable baby fat were tapped by his body. The furnace must remain lit. This, coupled with his patented exercise regiment of "pretending" has kept Frank quite slender.
A word more here must be taken regarding the art of "pretending." The Asians have their various martial arts. Many in India (along with Sting and Madonna) have embraced yoga. Others find weight lifting, bicycling, swimming, jogging, etc. to their liking. I submit that there is no programme under the sun, or peddled on late-night infomercials, that can compete with "pretending." I myself have tried it and after mere moments in its engagement have found myself unable to stand or even recognize simple shapes due to the energy demands made by the discipline. In short, imagine tai-chi on acid. The body surrenders itself entirely to the will of the mind and attempts to act out it's various scenarios, which to a seven-year old constitute impossible action on a level that would make the Terminator hang it's robotic cranium in shame.
Thus, Frank maintains a body that while not quite skelital in appearance, would be the envy behind the scenes of any Versace runway show.
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