New Year’s Resolutions can Suck It

homer_simpson_angels_and_demons-11209I’ve been on my annual downward spiral into “holy shit…I’ve gained 10 pounds” hell since Halloween that will continue until after Easter, at which point the “holy shit…I have to get into a swim suit” in two months will set in…at which time I will purge the pantry and refrigerator of all things glorious and tasty and replace them all things that taste like cardboard and packing peanuts.

It’s not that I don’t try, it’s just that I have the willpower of a kid in a candy shop. For example, in the beginning of January – when I am supposed to be “eating healthy” – the family decides they want to go to Red Robin (a.k.a. the place where fried is king and cholesterol has is driving the party bus right into your heart arteries). I see the Tower of Onion Rings on the menu. I pause and look to my right shoulder where the skinny-assed “Angel Me” is waving her boney-ass finger in my face and shaking her head saying “No, no Christie…a moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips.”

And in that moment…as saliva is pooling in my mouth…I hate “Angel Me.” Frankly, I find her incredibly boring and majorly unfun, with a perpetual pole stuck up her ass (like her sister how sits atop my Christmas tree.)

Then I look to my left shoulder, and there looking phat (no…not “fat”) and happy is “Devil Me,” dancing Gangnam Style…laughing and having a grand old time. She looks at me and says, “Have the damn Tower of Onion Rings girlfriend…you only live once! Life’s too short. We all die someday and no one is going to give a shit if you have an extra ten pounds on while you’re laying stiff in the coffin. But what they WILL remember is that you were FUN! CAREFREE! And not a stick in the mud like Nancy No-Sin over there!”

Of course, all of this happens in a matter of seconds as I wait for the rest of my family to order. I take a quick assessment of the rest of the crowd at the restaurant and realize that my fellow fried food feasters all look incredibly happy! They’re smiling and laughing and trying to get their sulking, salad-eating, carb-starved table buddy to do the same!

And then it hit me…Jesus and his disciples broke bread at the last supper! Jesus ate carbs and asked that his devoted followers do the same! At the moment, my husband pulled me from my reverie and said…

“For the love of God, Christie…will you order already!”

To which I replied excitedly…

“Yes! Yes! Exactly! For it is for the love of God that I will prove my devotion and order the Tower of Onion Rings and bottomless basket of fries! And bring me a glass of wine too!”

Amen!

(Do you think Jesus had Tums?)

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Eating Healthy is for the Birds (because I feel like I’m eating like one)

I want to live in a world where carbs are king, beer has metabolic enhancing qualities and Reeces is an official food group.

But until then…

My husband came home the other day to find our kitchen looking like the junk food section of the grocery store. The counters and table were covered with every delectable, sugary cereal known to man, Pop Tarts of every variety and “granola bars” that could rival the calorie and fat content of a Snickers any day of the week. Basically…it was like standing at the threshold of heaven.

“What the hell is going on in here?” my husband asked.

My three kids were standing amid the mess, devising a plan to export the “contraband” to the safety of their rooms.

“She’s been at it all day,” replied my son. “You should have seen what was in my cereal bowl this morning. I felt like I was eating the mulch.”

“It was a healthy bowl of high fiber cereal,” I yelled from the pantry. “You’ll grow to like it.”

“Oh geez,” moaned my husband. “Is this because of the weight you gained on vacation?”

There was a collective gasp in the room.

“Way to go dad,” said soon-to-be college bound daughter. “Now she’s really gonna go batshit crazy. Oh well…at least I’m out of here in a week.”

And then it hit him…his ritual of potato chips, recliner and Fox News in the evening might be in jeopardy.

“The potato chips?” he asked, hopeful.

“They’re gone,” said my youngest, shaking her head sadly, as if referring to the passengers on the Titanic.

“Here,” I said, as I threw a bag of rice cakes at him. “These are much healthier than those chips.”

“But I like to eat my chips,” he said. I gave him the stink eye until he took a bite.

“Ugh,” he said. “What a crock to call these rice ‘cakes’…there’s nothing cake-like about these. It’s like eating packing peanuts or the cardboard box they came in.”

He threw a bite down to the dog, who took a whiff and then turned her nose up to look at him, as if to say, “What the f*ck? Where’s my Snausage?”

I sat the four of them down at the kitchen table, with me at the head of it and I spoke to them of my quest to convert our junk and fast food loving family into vitamin taking, exercising, broccoli loving health nuts…

“While I trust that you will give this the good old fashioned college try…one of you will betray me…”

All eyes went to my husband, who was attempting to stash a few Chips Ahoy cookies into his suit pocket.

“What?” he said. “There’s starving people in China!”

“There’s starving people in this house,” said my son. “Can’t a dude get a simple bologna and cheese sandwich? I opened the fridge for a piece of cheese ended up with a mouthful of tofu!”

“What is tofu anyway?” asked my daugther. And before I could answer, my son had Googled it on his phone…

“Eeeewwwww…it’s made from curdled soy milk!” exclaimed my son.

“It is actually very good for you and you’ll see how good it can taste tonight when I make a tofu and veggie stir fry in the new wok I bought,” I said.

“Well it looks like spackle,” said my son, disgusted.

“That’s it,” said my husband pushing back from the table. “Who wants to go to Skyline?”

“Judas!” I yelled at my husband as he and my turncoat children made their way to the door. “Don’t blame me when your teeth rot and you can’t even fit into your fat pants anymore! At least my ass won’t need it’s own time zone!”

I heard the car back down the driveway as I sat alone at my kitchen table staring into the happy face of Cap ‘n Crunch. Then I went to the pantry and looked at the skinny bitch on the box of the “healthy” cereal.

Yep…the Captain looked much happier.

“Oh piss on it,” I said as I grabbed my cell phone and dialed my husband.

“Pick me up a couple cheese coneys.”

I felt better already.

 

 

 

Deltalina: Read her lips (how could you miss them?)

Gone are the days of the In-flight “Safety Dance”.

This is 2012 people…now (at least on Delta flights) we have “Deltalina” (as in Angelina…as in her Tomb Raider) role. Yes, the redheaded hottie of the new Delta video is an internet sensation! A ga-zillion hits on You Tube!

Perhaps it’s jealously on my part, that I am the antithesis of “Deltalina”…I am just “Delta” (formed when things go “down hill”…as in the skin on my face. I swear my eyebrows use to be an inch higher at at some point in my life, I really did have some semblance of cheekbones…and lips…and a jaw line…and more bags under my eyes than a luggage carousel.)

Of course, it could be a lack of sleep on the flight to Puerto Rico, due to the spanish speaking snorer seating directly behind me! Just when I’d start to noze, “Felipe Phelgm” would make a sound like he was syphoning a loogie from base of his brain and I’d be wide awake again! But I digress…

Anyway, I had my own “transcript” running through my head while the video was playing…

First off, her finger-wagging “no smoking” warning…

Deltalina: “Smoking…is not allowed on any Delta flight. But only because it could possibly ignite my over-hairsprayed helmet head.”

Deltalina: “Should smoke fill the cabin…I won’t know because my nose is now too small and like overhead luggage, may shift in flight.”

Deltalina: “A water evacuation is unlikely…most seat cushions can be used for floatation …as can my lips.”

Truthfully, after riding coach all of my life, I’m convinced it’s only the first class seats that can be used as flotation devices. We yeah hoos cramped back in coach won’t be able to squeeze out of our seats to evacuate in the first place!

 

 

Feeling Fat this Weekend? It’s Not Your Fault…Blame the Bunny

Damn that Easter Bunny.

Just when I’ve finally walked off the Halloween candy, in hops that perpetually pooping rodent of doom.

Why do I feel the sudden urge to go all “Fatal Attraction” on his cotton-tailed ass?

As I was sitting here this morning with my morning cup of coffee and bag of Reeces peanut butter eggs, I came across a story about what’s in your Easter basket…calorie-wise. I was so pissed at what I read, I went to my Easter stash and bit the heads off of all the chocolate bunnies in protest.

Take THAT!

Not wanting to discriminate, I beheaded all of the Peeps. Then I felt guilty. Really…I was feeling an undigested wad of processed marshmallow in my stomach, which, along with the gummy bunnies I’d eaten the day before were probably sticking together and growing like an abdominal snowball.

I was suddenly overcome with visions of the headlines: “Suburban Mother of Three Dies on Operating Table as Doctors Fail to Remove a 10 lb Gummy Marshmallow Tumor Stuck in her Gut.”

Anyway…I digress. Let’s face it…if the Easter Bunny delivered a basket full of fruit, fiber and whole grains – my kids would toilet paper their own house!  It’s an Easter Basket…it’s tradition…it’s supposed to be full of teeth rotting, cellulite inducing, zit producing crap!

Easter of course is about resurrection of Jesus Christ AND the restoration of all of our Lenten sacrifices…which for many wll involve a smorgasbord of sugary treats!

But in the spirit of sharing, here’s what I discovered (as if we care…Long Live the Sugar-holics!)

Cadbury Eggs (1 frickin’ egg): 170 calories, 6 grams of fat

Solid Chocolate Bunny 1.75 oz (who the hell knows how big that is height-wise but oh well) 298 calories, 18 grams of fat (I knew I hated rabbits)

Dove Chocolate Eggs Dark chocolate: 4 eggs…4???? Are you kidding? Try 4 AT A TIME! Anyway…4 dark chocolate eggs: 148 calories, 9.2 grams of fat; milk chocolate: 160 calories, 9.2 grams of fat

Jelly Beans 20 candies, 160 calories, 0 grams of fat

Jelly Bellys 20 candies, 80 calories, 0 grams of fat

Peanut M&Ms .7 ozs, 110 calories, 5 grams of fat

 Peeps 5 peeps, 160 calories, 0 grams of fat

Robins Eggs (i.e. Malted Milk Balls…only prettier) 4 pieces, 90 calories, 2.5 grams of fat

Reeces Peanut Butter Eggs (again…1 frickin’ egg!) 180 calories, 11 grams of fat

Boil the water bitches! It’s rabbit stew tonight! 😉

Dyson…it’s not just for vacuuming anymore!

So…gain a few pounds over the holidays? No worries! Suck away that dreaded back fat and saddlebags with the simple flip of a switch (creepy guy conspicuously holding vacuum attachment and wall outlet not included)!