WEIGHT LOSS MANIA!
Too good to be true? I don't blame you for thinking so. I was once like you, which is a lie. I was never obese. I am thin and impressive to behold. You'd know what I was talking about if you ever saw my picture. Observe:
Now, that's my cousin, but you get the idea. White people all look alike anyway.
It's crucial to understand that, although I myself am not obese, I have a deep sympathy for the plight of the fat peoples. I even have a couple fat friends—their names are “my kids.” For short, I call them “my fat kids, Phillip and Mary Anne.”
But hey! What am I gabbing on about them for? Let's talk about the weight loss plan that's going to make less of you exist in 30 days or less.
Weight Loss Mania is a scientific breakthrough in alternative miracle cures. It is being hailed as the “weight loss plan of the 21st century.” There are no pills. No diets. And there is no plan. Weight Loss Mania is an ecstatic meditation state that results in the inability to digest simple sugars, and IT REALLY WORKS!
Let's go to the facts.
FACT:
I guarantee that by the end of Weight Loss Mania you will weigh less than a bagel.
FACT:
I guarantee that the bagel you'll weight less than will be low fat, and its cream cheese will be Philadelphia's delicious 1/3rd less fat creamy cream cheese spread AT NO EXTRA CHARGE.
FACT:
My kids are huge.
But again, I am not here to talk about my children. I am here to introduce you to the greatest revolution in weight loss since not eating. With Weight Loss Mania, you're going to feel good, you're going to look awesome, and you're going to love every minute of it.
Now give me five minutes to discuss my kids and we'll hop to it.
What in the world did I do to deserve these fat kids? In grade school, I looked down at fat people like they were some kind of mp3 player other than an iPod. I was so proud that I wasn't fat and that I didn't have fat ass kids. Of course, I was only 11 at the time, but parenting was a prime topic of interest for me. I wrote a little story book in first grade called “My Future.” The whole thing was only a sentence, and it said:
My kids will look exactly like those people in the buns of steel commercial.
Well, some 30 odd years later, it's very clear to me that I let down the little bastard who wrote that sentence long ago.
And it's not that I didn't try. I fucking tried. As soon as Mary Anne turned one, I had her start taking out the garbage for exercise. When she turned two, she was walking the dog three miles, all over town. When her fourth birthday came, I announced my defeat. “Back to the drawing board!” I shouted. So Mary Anne carried up the 40-pound drawing board from the basement and I got to work.
Phillip was basically a disaster. I thought I had learned a lesson or two from Mary Anne, but man, even in the ultrasounds he looked a little tubby. In the end, I suppose God was working against me. I'll remember this, God. Or should I say, STEVE?
But anyway, what was I talking about before? Oh yeah. My wife is a shrew. Really. I hope she read that. Gretchen, you're a shrew. Kids, eat the Weight Watchers for dinner.
Okay, look. I don't feel like talking about Weight Loss Mania anymore. Do you understand that I gain nothing from this? I don't know what I was thinking to even try. My life is a wreck, and I don't even have the strength to clean it up because I weigh less than a bagel. I can't even pick up a fork. Here's some advice: if you decide to lose weight, make sure you still weigh more than eating utensils when you're done. It will only cause trouble.
Kids, I'm ready to come home. When you pick me up, don't forget to bring that iPod case that I use as a car seat.
And kids…no dessert tonight.
