My pants don't fit and I'm going to find the person responsible.   I know my recent weight gain cannot possibly be my fault, because I grew up hearing my father's theory on the problem of weight  - "The Theory of Floating Fat." Before I elaborate on The Theory, let me reveal that my father's disdain of real science can be detected in the following statement that he made to me, which I quote here in its entirety:   "Whaddya mean, 'wash your hands before dinner?' Ever since you took that microbiology class you've been a nag about handwashing. Hey, I grew up in the Depression. We couldn't afford to wash our hands more than once a week, and that was without any fancy-shmancy soap. Look at me now, I'm healthy as a horse. Handwashing - BAH!"   It should also be noted that this is a diabetic man with heart disease who thinks that checking his blood sugar once a month is enough; ice cream should be taken daily, like a vitamin; eating half a cheesecake never hurt anybody; and recounting whole episodes of "Everybody Loves Raymond" counts as exercise. So keep that in mind when you hear The Theory.   The Theory of Floating Fat 1. Fat cells are a source of energy, and 2. There is a constant amount of energy in the world, therefore 3. There is a constant amount of fat in the world. 4. When someone loses weight, the fat leaves their body and attaches itself to another person, who then gains the same amount of weight. 5. The attachment usually happens to the person in closest proximity to the one losing weight.   Since no one in my family or circle of friends has recently lost a significant amount of weight, the only logical explanation for my weight gain is that someone at HSB has been lobbing fat at me, and I'm pretty sure it's one of those sneaky Blubber Bloggers. When I catch the skinny little runt who's been chucking fat at me via my blog, I'm gonna make her pay.   I'm sending her my father.