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The last song I listened to was this. Manx Maniacs asked for any song that mentions the moon.  

The evidence was mounting like the terrain arising to obstruct the view from my face down towards my nappy zone:  I was putting on weight. Although polar-bear-shaped I’ve enjoyed (and I use that verb guardedly) stable weight for many years.  It seemed however that some recent combination of retirement, the running out of the more physically onerous renovation tasks, declining metabolic rate in the face of approaching senility and let’s face it, sheer boredom have broken that stasis. I’d embarked upon an unplanned personal expansion project. Whilst the Oznl bicycle continues active duty (and has proved to be a viable alternative to using my car for short, local and relatively cargo-free trips albeit posing mortal peril to whatever nappy I may be wearing), it seems the calories thus expended were no longer matching the rate at which I was acquiring them.  The antidote to lard acquisition lies in the kitchen, not the gym. Around one month ago I decided to do something about it.  Previous attempts at dieting had worked about as well as the current POTUS attempts to re-architect selected parts of the Middle East.  Any benefits from intervention had been extremely transient with a strong disposition for things to swiftly finish up in a worse state than they were before such ventures were undertaken. Since I was in and out of my Doctor’s surgery with recent cardiac complications, I decided to ask for some clinical help.  Whilst it transpired that I was (somewhat flatteringly) insufficiently gravitationally-enhanced to qualify for anything as dramatic as surgery, the fact that I had co-incident heart issues qualified me for pharmaceutical intervention.  Whilst my cardiac issues are structural and unrelated to diet and exercise, it is generally thought that not forcing your body to perform the workload equivalent of towing a trailer is also being kinder to your heart. A prescription was obtained. The drug seems as effective as it is breathtakingly expensive.  These medicines are not subsidised in any way by our national pharmaceutical benefits scheme and so their users are exposed to the full avarice of a patent-wielding multi-national drug corporation.  I suspect that one aspect of their efficacy is that you can no longer afford food but the magic consolation prize is that you don’t miss the food that much anyway.  For the first time in living memory there are unfinished packets of biscuits (cookies) in the fridge that I never seem to get around to.  Previously I thought that the standard portion of biscuit was “packet”. Anyway, as of this week, around 6.5kg (14lb) of me has gone missing and although it is a humble start, I’ve had that 6.5kg for quite a while and so I’ve quite noticed its absence.  Apart from the odd sensation of lightness, like I’d forgotten to pack a brick or two that I’d normally carry around in my pockets, my beloved looked at me the other day and said: “Your face is getting thinner.   I can see it.” As is so commonly the case in my experience, this relatively mundane life experience interacts with nappies in strange and unexpected ways. On the upside, my cloth nappies are starting to fit a little better.  Not only have I realised that the requisite overlapping on wings and crotch in kite-folded nappies has become slightly easier to achieve without recourse to winches and pulleys, once nappy-clad, it’s been a lot easier to zip up some of my tighter jeans over them.  In recent months they had required more of an epic struggle: like fitting a sock over a walrus.  It’s like I’ve gone back a year or two in bulk.  Terry nappy coverage is again excellent and the fit drifting back towards “generous”.  Pulling on my “XXL” plastic pants over them it occurred to me that if this trend sustains, I might need to invest in some “XL” or even (quel horreur), some “large” although I do still need that high waist coverage to keep damp towelling and bedding apart at night. I was similarly surprised to see such a modest weight loss “move the needle” as it were on my disposables.  The BeDry nappies I prefer have landing-marks on their tape zones to assist with alignment.  I realised this morning as I was changing myself that I was now at the “minimum” landing mark for the XL size. I’ve got mixed feelings about dropping back to a “large” though.  I quite like the coverage and with the whole bedwetting thing going on, coverage is king. On the downside, my night nappies can smell like the aftermath of an alley-cat convention by morning lately – sometimes before I even take them off.  I suspect this is due to nutritional ketosis.  Because my altered mental state allows me, for the first time in my life, to select foods based upon what I SHOULD eat instead of what my lizard-brain tells me, I’ve radically preferenced proteins over carbohydrates and my body has been drifting in and out of ketosis.  In this state, our bodies burn fat and excrete acetone.  Whilst I haven’t yet dissolved a pair of my plastic pants with acetone-infused pee, there has been a distinct pungency greeting the dawn. Diplomatically, my beloved has not commented on this. I can’t keep this trajectory for ever.  At some point I will run out of money and spousal tolerance.  So far she’s been happy (even enthusiastic) to join me in my low carb/lower portion size menu but in the last fortnight I’ve noticed her smuggling those un-finished biscuits (cookies) when she thinks I’m not looking and I think she’s beginning to have fantasies about fish and chips. What I’d like to do is try to get my body to “park” its weight at a stable number (as it likes to do) but have that number a smaller one, preferably only 2 digits long relative to before and somehow wean myself off a drug habit that on a monthly basis is costing nearly twice what I spend on nappies.  All of this on the fixed income of retirement.

Great chapter.  The decent towards full time nappies, and an admission much further down the road, continues.  Next one is going to be rough by the sounds if it, and seminal!

Updating from a couple of years ago. Got rid of the PS4, upgraded to Switch 2.  Currently deep into Forza Horizon 6 and Borderlands 4, with a little bit of Street Fighter VI in between. Also playing Mario Kart World off and on. Still working nights, but haven't had a whole lot of nights off.  Hopefully, this reliever will stick around for a while. Being in hospitality, summer travel season with our location and the big weeklong rodeo coming, I'm not likely to be on, playing as much.  DM for gamertag.

Whenever my wife pegs me i just want it out. I find it so uncomfortable. Is this just a case of building up the time? We only use a small dildo too.  I really want her to go to town on me but the reality is its too uncomfortable