My giganta-arse is definitely shrinking because it can now fit in to all sorts of wonderful new seats without too much wedging involved but I’m conscious that one particular part of it is now even more apparent than it used to be. There is an old adage that men like a butt they can rest a pint on which I have always thought a bit ridiculous as a) surely it would spill everywhere and no man likes a spilled pint and b) it rather relies on a woman having some sort of shelf back there for it to rest on – perhaps Ikea can start producing the Bjuttschelf?! I always thought it was a fallacy but whilst looking in the mirror as a pre-op (metaphorically kissing my arse goodbye) I realise that not only did I have one but that it was quite impressive in size. Blokie could have rest his pint, packet of pork scratchings and mobile phone on there.

Now that I’m 8 weeks post-op my Bjuttschelf (should I trademark that name?) has been reduced to a slopey bit with a pointy bit. Yes, I have a pointy bit on my arse now, doesn’t that sound even more attractive than a shelf? No? Oh alright then…. I like to think of the pointy bit as the convergence of my back, hip and bottom fat colliding. When tectonic plates collide they cause earthquakes, when three areas of body fat collide they cause random pointy bits. I do feel though that I should be celebrating my body as it currently is however as soon enough the fat will be gone, the skin will remain and before I know it I’ll be paying a hideously expensive Doctor to putt me back together with silicone and stitches, much like Humpty Dumpty. Although having done this to my body through years of abuse and neglect I rather feel I should be called Humpty Numpty!


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