An unprecedented season of My 600 Lb. Life

If this post sucks beyond the reason than you just don’t happen to like my style of writing, it’s because Windows sucks, and locked up trying to go into fucking screen saver mode, and my only option was to hard reset, and I lost my original post and trains of thought.  Whenever something like that happens, I write with salt, because I’m determined to get my point across, but at the same time too exasperated to try and remember all the things that I wrote prior.

Anyway, what we have here is that lost amidst the oceans of television content out there, is an unprecedented season 9 of My 600 Lb. Life, where we have literally had a season where six episodes in, not a single patient has successfully made it onto the surgery table and had weight loss surgery.

Obviously it’s not much of a show about weight loss if every single patient in the season is failing, but the reality is that My 600 Lb. Life really isn’t so much about the weight loss itself as much as it is putting the spotlight on trainwrecks of human beings, making bad choices, dealing with mental issues, and because humanity seems to have a strange fascination with watching people eat, watching morbidly obese people eat terrible, horrible choices. 

I like to think people like to watch, because they can try to vicariously live through them in eating all of the delicious guilty pleasures in the world, without doing it themselves and then ballooning up to 600 lbs.

Anyway, it’s still amazing that we’ve had a season where nobody has succeeded.  One patient succeeded in losing the initial weight, but there were some overlying medical conditions that made the surgery inadvisable despite the fact that he met Dr. Now’s milestones, but the episode still ends with them not getting surgery, and likely to be followed up on My 600 Lb. Life – Where Are They Now?

Obviously, coronavirus has a lot to do with some of this, as I’m sure it’s been real difficult for TLC to scrape together a roster to film for season 9, because if there are any people who are the very definition of at-risk patients, it’s the morbidly obese.  But as those in the biz often say, the show must go on, and by hell or high water, My 600 Lb. Life has continued, and not only have we viewers seen a tremendous amount of failure throughout the season, we’ve seen some other anomalous things, like Dr. Now making a house call for the very first time (that I’m aware of), and I’m pretty sure one of the patients actually never made it to Houston and did their entire episode from wherever the fuck, America they were.

Honestly though, the failure doesn’t even matter.  It’s hardly a show about the weight loss anymore, as I previously said.  I think that viewers are more intrigued by the characters on the show, but none more than Dr. Now himself, who has either by directive of showrunners, to turn the heat up and deliver some more biting and meme-able lines, or just by virtue of dealing with so much bullshit, so many false promises, and seeing so much failure first-hand, that his resolve for his patients has deteriorated to where he’s snippy and claps back with some truly great remarks.  I can’t really speak for anyone but my wife and I, but we most definitely take a lot of enjoyment at the ironically entertaining things he says to his patients after he gives them three munt to lose 75 pounds and then they come back having lost anywhere from 8-14.

By now though, I’m actively rooting for a season in which we have a 100% failure rate.  I doubt it’s going to happen, but it would be truly epic on the lines of a 72-win Bulls season if we were to actually have a single season where nobody makes it onto the table.  And the best part of the show is that even if and likely when I get debunked and proven wrong, it’s always a delight to see the people who do get their shit together and drop weight, get surgery and then drop even more weight, because when things are going right, it’s really easy to root for these guys.

Life as a married man, brog post #2

Honestly, there’s not nearly as much to say about the honeymoon as there was the wedding.  Frankly, much of this was split into two posts mostly because of my OCD of wanting to make sure a wedding photo was with the wedding post, and so that some picture from the honeymoon can also get displayed independently, therefore necessitating its own post.  Still, not to say that I can’t spout off about a honeymoon, but in the interest of transparency, this is the true impetus of this post coming to fruition.

Frankly, we’re just happy to have done a honeymoon, especially immediately after the wedding.  We’ve seen it happen to enough couples, where a honeymoon is planned anywhere from months to an entire year after the wedding to actually happen, and in some cases not even happen at all.  Yeah no, no disrespect to those who embark on similar paths, but the both of us most definitely wanted to have an actual honeymoon, where we could actually relax and take a well-earned break from the life of planning a wedding on top of our normal working lives.

In a nutshell, we went to Disney World for a few days, stayed at the Polynesian resort, and then transitioned onto a Disney cruise for the next week, where we sailed to Mexico for a few days, hit Disney’s private island Castaway Cay for a day, and then came back home.  The wife drove most of the itinerary, since she’s at least 200x more into Disney than I am, but I’m more than happy to go along for the ride, as long as the vast majority of my trip could be spent relaxing, eating like a pig, and generally having very little commitments at all.

Overall, my missions could very well be considered accomplished.  Maybe a little too much, because I still have no earthly idea what I’m doing with my life whenever I have free time back home.  I just watched Chinese Super Ninjas for the 80th time in my life last night, because I couldn’t triangulate on one better thing to do with two free hours than that.

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Kind of want

Despite the fact that I generally try to eat pretty clean the vast majority of the days of the year, every now and then I still cave into the temptation of absurdly ridiculous food monstrosities.  Fried Oreos, racks of ribs, Aporkalypses, Chinese buffets, Golden Corral, etc.  Sure, I certainly wouldn’t mind dropping 25-30 lbs., but at the same time, I’m not willing to go cold turkey on the good shit of the culinary world.

That said, I’m reading about Chili’s The Boss burger, and I’m just thinking to myself, “that doesn’t look half bad,” and “I can take this.”

Now I don’t have a jihad against chain restaurants like most of the people in the world who think they’re the anti-christ of commerce.  They exist, but often times pale in comparison to the better food available at the various local or independently owned restaurants that exist all around Atlanta.  But as far as chain restaurants go, I’m actually quite fond of Chili’s, even though I’ll probably be conscious to pay with cash the next time I ever go to one.  I think they have some of the better quality ribs available at a chain, and I can’t really recall the last time I was utterly unsatisfied by an experience there.

But with the emergence of The Boss, I can’t help but feel that my next excursion to a Chili’s is bound to happen sooner rather than later.  I don’t really care about the alleged 1,650 calories and lord only knows how much saturated fat in that burger, all I know is that it looks like an adversary that I can easily defeat and relegate into my digestive system, and I want to do it.

The Boss – we’re coming for you n

Oh, Atlanta #776

Despite the fact that it ended up being an epic game, I’m glad I didn’t go to the National Championship.  One, it was simply too fucking expensive.  Two, with the president coming in for it, it would undoubtedly become a bigger shit show than it normally would have been.  And three, I simply fucking hate crowds.

Don’t get me wrong, I still tried to get tickets from a company give away, but with hopes of winning them, and flipping them for thousands of dollars, to which I could use to spend on some actual home improvements, that’s how much they would’ve commanded.  But I had zero intention or interest of going to the National Championship despite the fact that it featured the hometown Georgia Bulldogs and was being played in the heart of College Football Mecca, here in Atlanta.

Crowds.  Fuck that.  I absolutely loathe crowds.  I’ve been to two Wrestlemanias and have zero desire to go to another.  I’ve been to Falcons games and Braves games, and I have little motivation to go to many more without good reason.  It’s a miracle I still bother attending Dragon*Con and it’s nearly 70,000 attendees every year, although afterwards every time I go through a spell of saying I don’t want to do it again.

But the National Championship game?  Short of Virginia Tech being in it, I can’t say that I’d want to go to one, even if it were literally within walking distance.  Articles like this one justify all of the reasons why going would have been a terrible idea; from MARTA shitting the bed like expected at the extremely high volumes of attendees, from the presence of the president and the Secret Service adding 50 layers of security to an already abysmal situation, forcing people to wait literally hours outside in the dreary rainy conditions.  Without question, I my day would’ve been ruined before even getting to my seat, which for many didn’t happen until the game had already kicked off.

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APORKALYPSE NOT

Surprise of the century, Hardee’s Aporkalypse biscuit was hardly the culinary miracle that fast food marketing attempts to make it sound like it is.  I mean, it’s not like I was expecting the greatest breakfast menu item in history, but it’s almost meme-worthy just how much this fell into the category of marketing versus reality.

Eating satisfaction-wise, it’s actually decent.  Sure, they ignored my request to put no egg on it, but since Hardee’s uses a washcloth folded into fourths and calls it an egg, it’s easy enough to remove without fear of any embryo remnants wrecking my digestive system for the afternoon.  But combining bacon, ham and sausage and drowning them in two cheeses is pretty self-explanatory when it comes to satiating a fat guy’s craving for a breakfast biscuit.

I think the biggest fallacy of Hardee’s is that they market something called the Aporkalypse, but completely fail to include all the porks that the restaurant offers.  Because adjacent to the sign on the window that boasts the Aporkalypse, there’s also a giant sign for this pork chop and gravy biscuit that they offer.  Yet the Aporkalypse boasts all this pork but completely fails to offer up a prevalently marketed pork!

Fat guy problems, yes I know.

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Going to run a train on them

This is why I’ll never not be fat: Taco Bell preparing to unveil the Naked Chicken Chalupa on January 26, where the shell is fried chicken

My only question is, why is there no meat inside the shell???

I get that the shell itself is meat, but at this point, why not go full retard and stuff the meat shell with, more meat?  Is it a fear of combining the requisite prison-grade squirrel meat they call beef inside of a chicken exterior?  Why not fill the chicken shell with the same chopped up chicken they use to fill any of the other menu items that are filled with chicken usually?

Why are they settling for just meat on the outside when there’s plenty of room for meat on the inside as well??

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So I’m kind of dieting

Looking through some pictures over the last year or so, I’m feeling an increasing resentment at how I’m looking in them.  Simply put, I feel like I’m looking a little more rotund than I’m typically comfortable with; and I can’t help but wonder if this is age catching up with me, or if I’ve just been letting myself let my guard down with general eating rules, or perhaps it’s a combination of both.

I’m not working out any less than I used to, and I still do a variety of weight training and cardio, and as long as I go to work, I’m also going to the gym, typically five days a week.  I’ve probably just gotten too lax with food, choosing poorly when it comes to what I’m eating, and probably eating a little too much of it, because food is awesome.

But I’m also 34 and not 24, when I shed a lot of weight, with a pretty strict diet, so I guess I should probably start watching what I’m eating again, and hope that some of the unsightly flesh on my body goes away in a few months.

Dieting isn’t really that hard to me, since it’s basically just conditioning, but getting to that point where eating choices and habits become normalized that’s somewhat aggravating to the point where it’s brog-worthy.

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