Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Our Modern Day Plague

The other night I ordered a large pepperoni pizza. It was way past the average person’s weekday bedtime and definitely past the hour dietitians recommend eating anything. I was starving and wanted to eat that huge greasy pizza all alone while watching and crying to the Fellowship of the Ring. I had a Fat Kid pizza fantasy that I would eat that pizza so fast all the blood would rush to my head and I would pass out right on the couch. I wasn’t really ashamed until the delivery boy showed up at my door and I found myself pretending there were people in the kitchen there to help me consume this huge artery lubricating delight.

“Ha oh Pizza boy you didn’t seriously think I would or even could eat this whole pizza by myself?!” “Billy! Johnny! Fat Pete! Come on! Get out here and help me eat this pizza.” “They must be downstairs or in the backyard making pipe bombs.”

I’m on the swift path to corpulence, the Great and Final Plague of America. We’re feeding ourselves to death like those poor little ducks that make delicious foie gras. I bet my liver tastes yummy and would go well with Walnut Fig Brioche.

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Thats me and Fat Pete.

1 comment:

blahblahblah said...

Sometimes I find myself at this little mexian restaurant that I love all alone . . . the problem is they have amazing guacamole. On top of that, they have amazing flan. Now, normally this is not an issue when I have someone with me. But alas, each time I venture there alone I find myself ordering the chips and guacamole, the flan, two tacos, a drink . . . and then I pause for a minute pretending like I'm trying to remember what else I was supposed to order for my "friend" (who I am hoping they will conclude must be waiting elsewhere for me) . . . then I add an enchilada and a side of black beans. Then I get everything to go so that they don't see me gorging on it all by myself. And as I'm sitting all crammed in my car trying to eat without spilling everything I think how ridiculous I am. I know I shouldn't care if they think I'm a heffer but for some reason I'm self conscious of it all. I blame my insecurities on the fact that none of their items are grouped into meals. If they were I feel like I wouldn't be listing off each item one by one and therefore they wouldn't realize how much food I am ordering. On top of that, just last night I got a whopper meal for dinner. I finished the whole thing and thought, dang, that didn't really hit the spot. So I drove two blocks and got a burrito, which did. I thought if anyone was following me they would probably think I'm bolemic and on a binge . . . except then they would see me not throwing up and they'd just think . . . ewwww.

We are so soul mates.