Tuesday, July 30, 2013

I pretty much have the cure for obesity

Hello, world. 

It's that time of year again. Seals are getting mauled, people's arms are getting bitten off, and sharks are flying through the air. That's right, shark week is coming. And I'm super freaking excited, because I live for shark week. But it's not only the fact that I get to watch an entire weeks worth of shows devoted to one of nature's most perfect animals, it marks the beginning of the end of summer. It's kind of nature's way of saying, "Alright guys, wrap up the barbecues and pool parties, real life starts back up again pretty soon." And you know what? I'm pretty okay with that. Because honestly, I would take cooler weather, snow, flannels, and pumpkins over swamp ass and hair frizz any day. I make summer sound so attractive.

However, the end of summer is almost here, and unfortunately, it makes me realise that I really haven't done much towards the whole, "I'm gonna get fit and eat healthy" kick that I was so hoping to be on by now. I have discovered that in hot weather, I want to do nothing. Just nothing. So this afternoon, on the way home, I decided that I needed some sort of motivation to go exercise, and like any girl would, I decided that if I went and got some exercise shorts and a sports bra, I might be a little more apt to get my ass outside and do it. It was a sign, as I went inside of Walmart and saw exercise clothes practically staring me in the face. I also got stickers, because I can't think of anything to motivate me better than stickers. Except ice cream, but that's a no-no. 

But I also came up with a better idea. As with all undesirable things in life, I just need to word it differently. Instead of going out for a run, I'm gonna go prowl the neighbourhood in my running shoes. See? Prowling. It puts it in a whole new light for me. 

Mom: Hey, where were you?
Me: Just out prowling the neighbourhood. 

Instead of "cutting back," I'm boycotting the ice cream industry for trying to give me a heart attack.

Maybe we've been going about it all wrong. Maybe the cure for obesity is something as simple as optimism. And using euphemisms. 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

How not exercising will save the world from Japan.

With the summer in full swing and almost nothing to do (aside from when I'm doing everything, of course), I like to take some time and contemplate my way of life a little. This normally takes about two minutes and involves this kind of thought process:

"I wish I had a car."
"I wish I had money."
"I'm hungry."

Done.

However, also with summer in full swing, means all of the white trash comes out to buy all of the junk food that's on sale at the grocery store. If you've ever seen a lady who's popped out six illegitimate children and apparently doesn't know what size shirt she wears, it isn't pretty. In fact, it's enough to make you think about pulling out the Wii Fit when you get home, which brings me to today's discussion:

My Wii Fit is a Condescending Piece of Shit

So I've done the right thing; I've decided to exercise. These random moments come to me periodically after I  end up eating my weight in chinese food, or after I've been lucky enough to remember that assignment in Life Skills class, where you had to write your family history on a cutout of a tree. Yeah, mine was basically a weeping willow. 

So I pulled my Wii Fit out, dusted it off, put fresh batteries in it, and turned it on when all of a sudden, the console greets me.

"Oh hello!... I seem to have forgotten your name.
It's been 762 days since your last workout!"

Not like we're counting or anything, right?
Then it tries to give you some "friendly fitness advice."

"Try laying off the afternoon snacks!"

Seriously? 

So anyway, once you've taken that emotional abuse, you go ahead and bite the bullet and weigh yourself. Now, I'm blessed with the ability to look 30 lbs lighter than I actually am, so of course, this damn thing tells me I'm morbidly obese and to top things off, plays fat music. That's right. Fat music. Like, tubas and shit. As if I didn't feel bad enough about myself. Thanks Wii Fit.

People always imagine the apocalypse to be fairly sudden. One meteor crashing into the Earth. One disease that wipes out humanity. Zombies. Jesus. Whatever you believe, it's wrong. The Wii is going to find it's way into your home, earning your trust, and finally, when the moment is right, killing your self esteem until you are a slave to the console. Actually, Japan is probably just laughing at us as we speak.