Thursday, February 03, 2005
THE TRUTH DILATE THE ANIMALS WE ATE GUILT DEBATE TRY NOT TO HATE LOVE YOUR MATE DON'T SUFFOCATE ON YOUR OWN...
Food on plate/gravitate/the earth's own weight. -INXS
Huh...? Uh...okay.
I am a firm...er, flabby believer in the truth that every diet is followed by an equal and opposite binge.
However. My pants do not fit.
Not even close.
And it will be at least two weeks before I can get in to see a doctor due to my shitty HMO to see if there is something larger (har de har har) at work here.
Therefore, I am making an effort to monitor my intake. Such as by eating more fruits and vegetables. For instance, to increase the fiber in my "diet", I've been consuming one (1) apple prior to each meal.
So far, this has only resulted in the following:
1) I'm in the bathroom all the time.
2) I'm fucking sick of apples.
In addition, Weight Watchers, along with many other of your more reasonable weight loss plans, suggests that you make a boring-ass journal of what all you ate.
Okay. Just don't ask me to do math, motherfuckers.
Morning.
Late. Again. No time for breakfast. Attempt to eat yogurt.
Not particularly fond of yogurt. The cat, however, is.
Cat manages to insert entire head in yogurt cup. Cat is now covered in Boysenberry Fruit On the Bottom.
Forget yogurt. Although cat hair = fiber. Maybe I wouldn't have to eat apple.
Mid-morning snack.
Coffee and (ugh) apple.
Lunch.
Apple.
Am forced to eat renegade bagel as am between paychecks and no other food available.
Am forced to eat renegade Krispy Kreme because of same.
Dinner.
Fucking apple.
Renegade pizza was brought to my door because renegade pizza delivery man came to deliver renegade pizza after renegade fingers dialed renegade pizza place. So of course, since I had to pay for it, I might as well eat it.
Dessert:
Cat-head yogurt.
Evil-tasting, hateful ovary of an apple tree.
Hate apples. Hate Fiona Apple. Hate Apple Records. Hate Gwyneth Paltrow's baby. And now I barf when I see the logo on my computer.
Am moving on to leeks. Delicious leeks. Snooty French like-bigass-green-onions-but-blander-leeks. The only thing I really like about them is that I can hand one to someone and tell them to "take a leek." Leeks. I can never seem to rinse all the sand off 'em (crunchy!) but at least they ain't apples. *shudder*
*ralph*!
THE TRUTH DILATE THE ANIMALS WE ATE GUILT DEBATE TRY NOT TO HATE LOVE YOUR MATE DON'T SUFFOCATE ON YOUR OWN...Huh...? Uh...okay.
I am a firm...er, flabby believer in the truth that every diet is followed by an equal and opposite binge.
However. My pants do not fit.
Not even close.
And it will be at least two weeks before I can get in to see a doctor due to my shitty HMO to see if there is something larger (har de har har) at work here.
Therefore, I am making an effort to monitor my intake. Such as by eating more fruits and vegetables. For instance, to increase the fiber in my "diet", I've been consuming one (1) apple prior to each meal.
So far, this has only resulted in the following:
1) I'm in the bathroom all the time.
2) I'm fucking sick of apples.
In addition, Weight Watchers, along with many other of your more reasonable weight loss plans, suggests that you make a boring-ass journal of what all you ate.
Okay. Just don't ask me to do math, motherfuckers.
Morning.
Late. Again. No time for breakfast. Attempt to eat yogurt.
Not particularly fond of yogurt. The cat, however, is.
Cat manages to insert entire head in yogurt cup. Cat is now covered in Boysenberry Fruit On the Bottom.
Forget yogurt. Although cat hair = fiber. Maybe I wouldn't have to eat apple.
Mid-morning snack.
Coffee and (ugh) apple.
Lunch.
Apple.
Am forced to eat renegade bagel as am between paychecks and no other food available.
Am forced to eat renegade Krispy Kreme because of same.
Dinner.
Fucking apple.
Renegade pizza was brought to my door because renegade pizza delivery man came to deliver renegade pizza after renegade fingers dialed renegade pizza place. So of course, since I had to pay for it, I might as well eat it.
Dessert:
Cat-head yogurt.
Evil-tasting, hateful ovary of an apple tree.
Hate apples. Hate Fiona Apple. Hate Apple Records. Hate Gwyneth Paltrow's baby. And now I barf when I see the logo on my computer.
Am moving on to leeks. Delicious leeks. Snooty French like-bigass-green-onions-but-blander-leeks. The only thing I really like about them is that I can hand one to someone and tell them to "take a leek." Leeks. I can never seem to rinse all the sand off 'em (crunchy!) but at least they ain't apples. *shudder*
*ralph*!
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