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Ultra Fat

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 07/15/03)

Last night, my wife, Rhonda, and I almost had a knockdown, drag-out fight over grocery store brand chocolate brownies and a big bag of Tostitos SCOOPS chips.

"Why don’t you just bring home a gallon of ice cream, a bucket of onion rings and a bushel of movie-theater popcorn while you’re at it," I barked like an alcoholic with the shakes.

"If all we had was what you can have on your diet, all we’d have around here is meat," Rhonda said.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m on a diet, OK? A DIET. A mother &^%$@# diet! A +&$#@#!, &%$#%% diet.

Because I cannot eat what I want to when I want to. Noooooooooo. I never have been able to do that. Thank you so much Mr. Physiology Fairy. I have to constantly watch what I eat and when I eat it, where I eat it and who I eat it with, or I’ll wake up one morning on the floor because the slats in my bed have popped like toothpicks under my enormous &%$#%%ing girth. OK? OK?

And any of you 8%-body-fat Nadias and Poindexters out there who are bawling about having to gain weight and about how your pants are too baggy in the butt, no offense, but &%$#%% off. Kind been having a tough week, what with the wife bringing Evil Carbohydrate into the house and the bank account sucking wind and the dog in his &%$#%% kennel.

Plus, I drive right by a sweet corn street vendor every night on my way home. I love the stuff, fresh from the field. But Dr. Atkins is definitely hostile to corn. And then, on top of all that, I ate meat like a tiger all weekend and still GAINED weight. &%$#%%!

Now Dr. Atkins is even pissing down my back. Why? Because I’ve displeased the Almighty, apparently. I don’t know. I do know that I am pretty darn &%$#%%ing sick of having to "watch what I eat" 24-7. Oh, I been through them all.

First it was low fat. Whoever coined "fat makes you fat" should be beaten with my still-dripping ice cream scoop. It’s rot, of course. If that’s true, Mr. Simple Diet Simon, why can’t I eat a sack of sugar and case of beer ever single day and become thin, because both refined sugar and beer are FAT FREE FOODS? Huh? Riddle me that, Fat Man.

Then there’s the "exercise more" crowd. Yeah. OK, the thing is, I got a life. I can’t bust away to the gym for four hours a day, OK? I can't quit my desk job and go preform manual labor 12 hours a day like my forefathers. I got a job and a mortgage and a dog and a Carbo Subversive Wife.

And, besides, I’ve tried that route too. In 1999, I rode the &%$#%%ing exercise bike at the Ankeny Family YMCA in tony Ankey, Iowa for an hour a night, every night, for three months -- and lost half a pound. But I did gain some tendonitis that took me another six moths to get over. I still eat ibuprofen like (fat free) candy to this day. And if aerobics is the bomb, why do the women who show up for aerobics at the YMCA I go to every morning never lose weight?

They show up. They aggressively exercise, they stay the same size. Return on exercise investment just ain’t there for me, Sparky. So now I’m back to the low-carb thing, because at least it’s a diet that’s slightly preferable to dining in a prison camp. I love meat, but geez. On this deal I can have about 20 grams of carbohydrate a day. That’s two slices of bread.

Maybe an ounce of chips (which is roughly six chips) all &%$#%%ing day. Which is why I’m a little (overly) sensitive to my wife bringing home the carbo-loaded stuff. (I hope you understand, hon! Love ya! And the chips and cheese dip were great at 9:30 last night!) The diet industry has gotten so insane, and the national froth to find a diet that actually works without making you so hungry you start gnawing on your own limbs has reached such a peak, that it’s come to this: Fitness Beer.

My friend Nathan Wright opined beautifully about the pioneering fitness beer, Michelob Ultra, on his site, www.monkeycube.com. Anheuser-Busch makes the stuff, and advertises it as the post-workout beer of choice of flat-bellys and tiny body fat people everywhere.

And then yesterday, I saw an escalation of the fitness beer war on a billboard while getting gas (and dying for a candy bar). Miller Lite claimed to have far, far fewer carbs than Bud Lite. HA! And, for the sticklers out there, Ultra has 2.6 grams of carbo per serving and Miller Lite has a massive 3.2. So you can imagine what that 0.6 fewer grams of carbo will do for ya. Make you a sculpted Greek God.

Except for me. My body laughs at all attempts, short of surgery, to deflate myself. &%$#%%!

Hey, thanks for listening. I feel better. Right now I have to wash down a brownie with some bat-piss extremely light beer.

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