I’m in a bad mood right now because I’m listening to my husband shriek at the television as his beloved Wolverines are having their asses handed to them by a 1AA school. So if you are offended by the following I would like to invite you to my home where you can have your teeth set permanently on edge because Michigan is playing worse now than it did when that “*$%&*$^!@ Navarre was quarterback” (King’s words, not mine).
Thank you,
The management
I’d like to thank the asshole who responded to my last post by sending me a hate-filled screed in which she insulted my weight, intelligence, and included some incoherent manifesto about a class-action suit against the makers of Phen-Fen, or Fen-Phen, or “the weight loss drug that doesn’t require you to exercise or eat right and can therefore be counted upon to exact its price by making you bleed internally or cause your heart to explode.”
No. Really. You made my day you insipidly self-righteous rhinoceros.
So, because the lack of ethics among those in the weight-loss industry and inherent stupidity of consumers who blindly slurp up their products is a pet peeve of mine, let me just write a catch-all post for those individuals who, unlike my regular readers, have the IQ of a carrot and found my blog using search strings like “I’m borderline retarded and have a difficult time pronouncing vowels” or “Magical paths to weight loss that don’t include any effort on my part”.
(…and does anyone know when a punctuation mark should go on the outside of the quotations? Because there are occasions when I see it inside, and occasions when the period is left outside. Is this a style issue? Should I buy an MLA handbook that is dated sometime after the invention of papyrus? Where are the grammar police when you need them to explain these things to you?)
Anyway. So this walrus sends me a lengthy e-mail that is so riddled with name-calling, misspellings, hyperbole, and grammatical fouls that I’m going to save her the embarrassment of posting it here. Instead, I will summarize her electronic correspondence by saying that she took exception to my last post and what she perceived to be a slight on overweight people.
Then she called me fat. And opined that I was simply jealous that these women had found a weight loss solution that worked for them. Then, inexplicably, went on to describe how she had been part of a class-action settlement against some purveyor of Phen-Fen, or Fen-Phen. After which she recanted her original assertion that I was fat by closing with the sentence “cuz you skinny girls dont now how hard it is to lose weight.”
I’m going to leave the first slight about my weight alone seeing as how I live in a hyper image-conscious state where “thin” is measured in degrees relative to those who were liberated from Dachau. Around here, one woman’s “fat jeans” are another woman’s toothpick warmers. So let’s just say that I eat right, exercise, and that I am immensely satisfied with my size.
I am not, however, going to leave her defense of the “carb free lifestyle” as a healthy road to weight loss alone. Especially when it is followed up by the wholesale vilification of the makers of a formerly popular weight loss drug.
Let’s get real folks, if you are fool enough to believe that “carb free” is any healthier than a drug like Phen-Fen or Fen-Phen or whatever, you are either sticking your head in the sand or are dumber than a box of rocks. Here’s the thing; despite whatever psychological assignations that people draw to food and their eating habits, the physiological aspect of the damned thing is fairly simple. Are you ready? Here it is:
Weight = Calories consumed – Calories burned
See how I did that? I just cut through all the trigonometric equations involving the bending of time and space to include rose quartz, “herbal supplements” and ridiculous cabbage soup recipes to arrive at what should be a very simple formula for anyone with half a brain and a rudimentary understanding of metabolism. Which, in theory, should be 90% of the United States but is probably more like the 13% Americans who can locate the Pacific Ocean on a map.
Therefore, if you are following a “weight loss” regimen that promises results without limiting your caloric intake or increasing your activity level, you are probably doing something to your body that will take years off your life and have serious consequences down the road. That’s a simple fact and sending angry e-mails to me trying to argue otherwise isn’t going to change it. After all, I’m not the one who breathed life into a pile of dirt and called it Adam.
Oh, and don’t assume that just because I have an opinion on the sheer idiocy of most “weight loss programs” that I hate overweight people. Because honestly? I don’t care. Are you a good person? Do you pay your taxes? Stay out of trouble? Then I really don’t have an opinion about your weight one way or the other. You’re an adult. Live your life the way you see fit. Plus, I figure the rest of the world is unkind enough without me being an ass about something that doesn’t affect me. Except on airplanes. That is one time that I will get pissed because dammit, at six feet and one hundred and sixty five pounds I need every inch of seat I can get and it’s a given that the jackass in front of me is already going to decrease my personal space by shoving his seat into my knees. Damn I hate flying.
So, in closing I would like to say that if you:
1) …are one of these fools who takes a pill instead of eating a salad and stepping out for a walk, don’t send me angry e-mails.
2) …proudly sport an irreversible heart condition caused by a drug which should have been obviously dangerous even before some scum-sucking mass torts attorney got a hold of your litigious ass, don’t send me e-mails.
3) …think that cutting carbs out of your diet is a sound weight loss plan and ignore the fact that you are damaging your liver, heart, and kidneys, don’t send me e-mails.
3) …want to insult my weight, don’t counter that insult with its polar opposite in closing because it makes you look like a dumbass with the attention span of a flea. (Fleas have short attention spans right?)
Post script re: The Michigan/Appalachian State Game – Ouch. That’s gonna take a few blowjobs to get over.
