In Which Z Begs to Be Made Fun Of
Published July 31st, 2008 in A day in the life1) It is rude to walk by Girl Scouts without purchasing at least three boxes of Thin Mints. The true gentleman additionally purchases Samoas.
2) It is wasteful to turn down an offer of free food, and indicative of America’s excessive consumerism. Much better to stuff your face, even if you’ve just eaten.
3) One should sample every dish at the table, lest they inadvertently exclude themselves from conversation about said dish. If they don’t like sweet potatoes, they can just scrape the marshmallows from the top.
4) Reverse racism is to be encouraged in the case of poultry. White meat sucks.
5) If a friend asks you to split fries/onion rings/nachos/buffalo wings/a side of beef/mozzarella sticks, it is selfish of you to decline. Even if you’re not in the mood, you don’t want to deprive your friend, do you? After all, he’d do it for you… Trust me, you’re doing the right thing.
6) Cakes are only considered caloric when eaten in slice form. In circular cakes, a “slice” is defined by a cut terminating at the perimeter of the cake and extending a distance equal to or greater than the radius of the cake. Anything shorter than that and it’s practically a salad.
7) A twenty-piece Chicken McNuggets is the economically sound choice, compared to a six-piece.
8) When young girls are selling lemonade and/or cookies from a sidewalk table for a quarter, it’s charitable to ostentatiously offer to buy their entire stock for $50. This will also make people think you’re loaded. Bonus.
9) Order the lamb.
Basically, one dip in my metabolism and I’m a corpulent sack of goo.
In the past, my efforts to keep my weight in check have had mixed results. For instance, due to a rounding error, I always believed that walking two miles was the caloric equivalent of a Super-Sized Quarter Pounder Extra-Value Meal. (I mean, it makes sense - thirty minutes walking vs. four minutes, 37 seconds eating. Do the math.) One could argue that a Quarter Pounder is exercise in and of itself, going by how much one makes me sweat.
So in a pre-emptive strike against my impending endomorphism (see two posts ago), I joined Weight Watchers. I’m not ashamed - it’s actually kinda cool, and I’ve learned a couple interesting things. (Note: For those who don’t know, while Weight Watchers is basically a diet based on lowering calories, they make it simple for the mathematically challenged by reducing foods to single-digit point values. Me add one plus six good.) One thing I never knew is that when I go out for Indian food, I take in more points (32) than I need in an entire day (26). Gorging myself during a recent barbeque dinner, I almost doubled that amount (44 - Bizarrely, I’m kinda proud of that.)
Why am I telling you all of this? Mostly because I’m bored - whatever. But also because when some of you guys see me at the wedding, pointing at my emptied plate and counting, “47, 49… uh, 54… oh, and then there was the cake…” I don’t want some half-baked jokes about me fitting/not fitting into my dress. Get those all out of your system now. I want some real fucking hilarity, at the expense of my insecure (but skinny, goddamnit!) ass.
I, too, have been an intermittent member of the Church of Point-ology these last few years. Honestly, the only embarrassing thing about it is participating in a room full of middle-aged ladies for a half-hour a week as they share their feelings about pudding and shit. I’m surprised that your brother hasn’t clowned either of us about joining… Maybe we’ve finally crossed that threshold between playful ridicule and abject pity.
Anyway, just in case you’re looking for a way to impress said middle-aged ladies with your charming geekitude, here is the point-system expressed as a mathematical equation. I reverse engineered the “Points Finder” during one particularly boring meeting a few years back:
P = [(C - 10F)/50] [(L 6)/12]
Where:
P = Points
C = Calories
F = Fiber grams (and is less than or equal to 4)
L = Fat grams
This way, you don’t have to carry that stupid piece of cardboard with you everywhere you go. You can just read the nutritional information on a block of cheese, flutter your eyeballs, and say, “Whoa…I know kung fu!”
You’re welcome.
(ahem…) P = [(C - 10F)/50] PLUS [(L 6)/12]
There should be a “plus” sign between those two bracketed expressions, but the blog app must think it’s code of some kind.
I never carry that cardboard thing around, but I’m LOVING knowing the point system. One question - isn’t “(L6)/12″ = L/2? Or am I reading that wrong, somehow?
Again, there should be a plus sign between the L and the 6, so… third time’s a charm:
P = [(C - 10F)/50] PLUS [(L PLUS 6)/12]
Let’s say your bag of sun chips has 180 calories, 3 grams of fiber, and 6 grams of fat:
P = [(180 - 10*3)/50] PLUS [(6 PLUS 6)/12]
P = [(180 - 30)/50] PLUS (12/12)
P = (150/50) PLUS 1
P = 3 PLUS 1
P = 4
I’m so glad somebody finally appreciates this!
Hey guys, I come here for a giggle or two, not a fucking math lesson, so ease up on the equations.
Around October last year, my sister got engaged and she and my wife decided to get on WWW (Weight Watchers, not Wonder Woman) which meant that I and my sister’s fiancee had to do it too. I started at 266.5 (I’m 6′1″) which meant I was getting into serious Dunlop territory. My wife somehow got pregnant, which meant she had to quit and the fiancee just used his unmarried balls and said he wasn’t going to do it. Which left my and my little sis. By April I was down to 211, my goal was 205. My pants size went from 42 to 36 (which is weird because in high school I weighed about 215 and wore a 34). Then the baby came in May and I’m back up to 218 because it’s hard to be up at 3:00 AM watching someone else eat and not have a snack yourself. I guess what I’m trying to say is good luck, after the first week or two it gets easier. And stay away from your co-workers until you’ve settled in. Mine wondered why I was being a bigger than usual prick until I ‘fessed up.
Oh, and they have a calculator you can get to figure out the points, so you don’t have to carry around that card and pretend your Copernicus.
eat less shit more, I gaurantee it works, unless you have uncomfortable nuclear fusion occuring in your guts.
All other weight loss plans are either gussied-up restatements of “eat less shit more” or they’re bs. Do you have one of my patented fecal scales?
And Spidey, I have to console you on your unfortunate weight loss. After the years of hard work it took you to become a prosperous 266 pound mammal, it’s a shame to hear that you’re now back down to 218. Z has had sex with girls that weigh more than that. At 266, as you toured rural China, peasants and vilagers would have admired your prosperity and offered you their daughters in marriage, but now you are back to being some skinny guy who likes comic books, just like in highschool. It’s a big step backwatds if you ask me, and a dangerous one too, because at 218 you are just light enough to get picked up by your undies and left to wedgie-hang on a branch in the tree of sorrows, during the great underpantspacolypse. Many geeks, shlubs and Zuls will know what it’s like to be roast in the depths of the Slor that day I can tell you!
If only I would have known I could have had hot Chinese dausghters…….
I never said they would be hot,