The Bathtub

The Obese Omtubsman: The Tub Gets High School Spirit

This past week, the Tub took a trip down memory lane to their high school days, except on Thursday, when it gorged itself for Thanksgiving and didn't post at all--which as a gorger myself, I approve of 110%.  This got me thinking about my own high school days--I'm sad to report that this was not a happy time for the Obese Omtubsman.  The teasing, the laughing, and the frequent prodding with sticks . . . actually, that was all pretty good.  I enjoyed the attention.  I just hated band.  Stupid arpeggios. 

The Obese Omtubsman: My Chew Toy Addiction

If I had to use two words to describe the columns on toys last week, those words would be "pretty good."  But since I'm allowed to use more than two words, let me elaborate--these columns ran the gamut from being about nerdy toys to crappy toys to girly toys to how to get toys.  Plus something about a super wagon, which contrary to Phylan's sarcasm, is actually quite awesome--in fact my brother, The Entrepreneurial Omtubsman, invented the round thing in the wrong that makes it go ("wheel".)  But I have to take issue with a few columns, in a new segment that I call, "Taking Issue With A Few Columns". 

The Obese Omtubsman: I Bit One of My Fingers Off

Unfortunately, this past week has been solidly downhill for your Obese Omtubsman.  On Sunday, I began to lose feeling in my enormous, spud-shaped fingers.  In fact, after a while, I was so numb that I forgot that they weren't spuds.  And my opinion on spuds is, if I see a spud, I'm going for it.  Which is why I am now missing my right pinky. 

Now, I'm not asking you to give a damn about my troubles.  I've bitten off worse.  But the incredible pain I feel in these 9 remaining knobby, gelatinous fingers is so intense that I need a nap after typing this prologue.  Sorry Lauren, I need to take a health day, and will omtub in full on the day before Thanksgiving.

The Obese Omtubsman: One Angry Dwarf and Two Hundred Solemn Cankles

First things first: I apologize for missing my post last week. I know, I know, "What, was it Lobsterfest at Red Lobster?" No, for your information, Lobsterfest is in February, according to this press release--and that's fairly low-class of you to assume my missed post had something to do with the degree to which I am gratuitously fat.

Though I must say I do enjoy Lobsterfest. In fact, in the Omtubsman household (my last name actually is "Omtubsman"), we enjoy the holiday so much that we pull our children out of school for the entire month, and each day we camp out by those lobster tanks they have at the supermarket so that our mouths will be sufficiently salivated by the time we arrive at the restaurant to just slide whole, live lobsters down our throats. I must say, I have on several occassion woken up in the middle of the night with a live lobster wedged between the rolls in my enormous paunch, that must have arrived there by eating with the gusto that only a truly fat man is capable of.

No, I missed the post because I had to reschedule a dentist appointment at the last minute. Anyway, below, I will Omtub your family posts OR your Ben Folds post--but not both.

The Obese Omtubsman: Beauty and the Week

They say that beauty is only skin deep.  Of course, that would mean that my beauty is ample in bounty, for you see, I am really enormously fat, which means  my skin is quite literally deeper than the skin of most men.  In the more rotund parts of my body, my skin has been measured to be around 7.5 inches deep.

But my tremendously deep skin aside, here's what I thought about last week's posts:

The Obese Omtubsman: I Hope For Your Sake That This Tub Is Made of Reinforced Porcelain

Greetings, Bathtubbers.  I am the new Omtubsman for this fine blog. 

I know that many of you do not like your schedules being disrupted.  You like your 2 bowls of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios in the morning, and your nap at 3:30 PM, and your Everybody Love Raymond reruns on TBS at night--so you're totally dependent on your routine.  I don't blame you--that's a pretty sweet routine.

So I'm here to let you know, that not much will change.  I plan to be like my predecesor, the Omniscient Omtubsman, in most ways.  I'll be arbitrary, needlessly critical, petty, and I will certainly make it a goal to disappoint Tori.  The only difference to keep in mind--and this is important--is that I am really, truly, very fat.  I am a very, very fat man. 

So turn on the jets and scoot over--the Obese Omtubsman is in the Bathtub.