The key to performance is proper nutrition.
That's why I am switching to Samuel Adam's Light beer. It is still expensive enough to make me feel like I've "made it" and can afford to waste my money, while still separating myself from the NASCAR class through sheer affected snobbery. I intend to come ripping out of the fat suit this summer, and release my inner water bug. I have considered many options, with white wine spritzers running a close second, if that's not commitment I don't know what to tell you.
In addition, I have canceled the cable television. That's right, cold turkey. It was just supposed to be a frivolous winter fling between Comcast and I, but I'm afraid it has gotten serious.
When I called to issue my cease and desist order, the helpful drone on the other end, requested an explanation. I told her I didn't want cable because I stayed up until 1:00 A:M last night watching The Deadliest Catch. Three straight hours of dirty men getting seasick, maimed, and killed in order to bring King Crab legs to the tables of pig-out buffets globally. I became especially unnerved as I sat drinking and smoking, watching them drinking and smoking. I thought smugly, what a bunch of losers, then they would take a drink, and I would take a drink. They would tell a joke, and I would laugh like I was there. They would light a smoke, then I would light a smoke. Apparently I am highly susceptible to suggestion.
Unless of course one of my good friends is suggesting something helpful, or positive to me, then I don't want to hear it.
Part three in the "Escape the Fat Suit" campaign is watching hot women at the local gym while I sit on some machine I can't comprehend the purpose of, or "going to the gym". I'm not sure how this is supposed to help, but I have it on good authority that it does.
At least they have T.V. there.
4 comments:
Yeah Juancho, when you get tired of Sam you can cheat with Jose. Perfect.
But let me get the other visual straight. One bright September morning Juancho is going to give birth to his skinny self, just brave the dilation till a slimy, wide-eyed Gollum Juancho with monstrous legs wriggles out his butt, chews apart the cord to his generous placental carcass, suits up, hops on the Precious, and joins the other monkey freaks who ride at 150 lbs and are actually proud of that? Cause if I've got that right I think I might have to prepare myself for this.
Frankly, I think (know) you can ride the shit out of a mountain bike till you've got the strongest set of legs and lungs you've ever had, and still be representing in the XL or even XXL gang.
On the other hand, you'll never see a skinny roadbiker. There are obvious reasons for this, of which I'll name a few, starting with the most boring:
1) Road bikers get their heart rate up and keep it up, mile after paved mile.
2) Mountain bikers party, meaning they eat and drink to excess, and all the more when the riding's been fast and furious. Those calories are recouped with a fierce vengeance.
3) Road bikers court pain of the chronic, taint-numbing, everlasting type. This is the pain of hunger and calorie counting and carb busting and all the other unnatural acts against nature.
4) Mountain bikers court pain of the acute, spectator worthy type, as in "That collar bone might be broken but Joe has some Demoral so it won't matter for long and did you see that fucking crash!" This is not the pain of dieting, but more like the belly pain from standing in the kitchen and eating an entire watermelon because you're hungry and thirsty and the melon is sweet and cold and gives way in perfect, fist-sized chunks.
150 lbs?
Placental carcass?
Mormon style?
And did you mean "You'll never see a skinny road biker" or did you mean "You'll never see a FAT road biker".
And for the record King Kong vs. Godzilla resulted in an ambiguous draw.
Oh, and if Joe really has some demoral, I want it.
I just braved a tremendous dilation, must have been the coffee.
Yeah, I meant you'll never see a chunky roadbiker.
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