Give me pizza...and give me death
by Tim Kegley
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With my tongue firmly planted in my cheek...
Nothing will spoil the taste of a hamburger pizza more than those commercials selling health (probably imagined by a consortium of Aryans born 40 years too late).
P90X and an assortment of work out machines, which my carb fogged brain can't remember. Sure I want that stomach...scientifically engineered though. Take my keg, give me that six pack...and I'll do those commercials myself. But...spending hours upon hours in a gym, with no recliner in sight, and the constant harangue from the gym Nazis when the pizza delivery guy shows up...
Well it's more than my fragile phsyche can bear. I am tendered membraned to the point where I think the scale is cussing at me.
Recently I seen an article about a 17 year old girl who fainted because she had been scarfing down chicken nuggets from McDonald's for 15 years. Well, thinks I, are you telling me that I can eat chicken nuggets, and only chicken nuggets, for 15 years before it has an adverse effect on me? Hooray! That's not bad. What's more, if I throw in a Big Mac, occasionally, then that should buy me...well...maybe 10 more years before my face hits the pavement.
I WILL FAINT FOR FAST FOOD!
I remember when the guy who said, "if it taste good, spit it out", died at the age of 96. Jack Lalanne was his name...a pioneer in the fitness arena. Don't know if you've heard of him. Kind of famous.
To live that long he must have been doing something right, right? Well, yeah, but if you take all the time he spent in the gym, something he didn't enjoy by the way, and subtract that from his age and call the time left over...something like...the joy factor...his "joy factor" living was probably around 50.
But if a person could work out while on LSD and watch the walls coagulate together and form a kaleidoscope of patterns instead of the same colors and the drone of ESPN, then I might be in favor of such manic behavior...except for the fact that, unlike chicken nuggets, LSD really is bad for you.
Now I have attempted to catch up on the Real Housewives while on the elliptical, but the drone of that evil machine overcomes the drama of Bravo so much so that I have to stop in order to watch the vixen machinations of the cackling hens of Beverly Hills. I do have my priorities straight, thank you very much.
I am training my body to adapt to high levels of pressure. Instead of intensifying pressure on muscles I think the real test on a body's stamina is when the systolic is over 200 and the diastolic is not far behind. Couple that with thinning arteries, pounds of tissue (to keep warm in the winter), and the constant stretching of the stomach and you'll discover what "no pain, no gain" means. Now that's stamina, when you're a whale and you have to rise from your pit to urinate about 10 times in the night. Don't talk to me about running a mile, or swimming a mile, or working out for 2 hours, the heaving around of fatty girth takes more will power than a short time spent sweating in a gym.
Just thinking about my cholesterol level entices my passions for a whataburger...with double meat...and triple cheese. In fact my insatiable appetite lusts for a vat full of nacho cheese dip as much as a vegetarian must lust after a blade of grass. I do think it's funny, and ironic, that on King Nebby's menu after he lost his Babylonian mind was...grass.
Should I equate vegetarianism with insanity?
There is a moment in the TV series "Deadwood" when Wild Bill Hickok and his friend Charlie Utter are in a motel room discussing Hickok's appetite for destruction. Charlie was concerned that ole' Wild Bill was spending too much time drinking and playing poker. Well Billy tires of it and goes on to give a little speech flavored with an assortment of curse words, which I will not repeat. The most memorable line he gives is when he says to Charlie Utter;
"Charlie, will you let me go to hell the way I want to?"
Which is similar to my reaction to the gluttonous, infomercializing, authoritarian gurus of ginseng and organic lettuce...
"Shut up! Will you let me go to heaven the way I want to?"
I mean...can't they see I'm trying to get there as soon as possible?
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