GO FUCK YOURSELF. SERIOUSLY.
I am glad you’re enjoying what you’re eating. I really am. But I’m on this stupid diet full of food I hate and am expected to eat EVERY SINGLE DAY, and you know what makes it hard to stay on track? Seeing all the delicious-looking stuff YOU get to eat.
Wednesday was National Cheeseburger day, and I DIDN’T get to have a cheeseburger because I’m on a stupid diet. Do you know how much you start to HATE everyone who gets to eat whatever they want? Do you know what I got to have for breakfast?
That’s right. Another fucking rice cake. Things with no flavour that suck the life out of you, one bite at a time. You could swap them out with Styrofoam and no one would notice!
Now, I fall prey to the power of suggestion like a drug addict in Detroit, and so, seeing this stuff makes me want to cheat on my diet. And I don’t mean have a little more rice with my meal than I’m supposed to. I mean go to Fatburger and and order everything, AND donuts. (Donuts are fucking glorious. Yum.) You know why? Because I know I’m not supposed to. So, I get the added thrill of being rebellious on top of the mouth-orgasm that is grease and salt and sugar. Nom. Because, deep down, no one likes being told what to do, but I react in very strange ways. I don’t even like it when I tell MYSELF what to do. It reminds me of Christopher Titus’ Love is Evol (yes, that is how it is spelled in this particular instance) skit in which he introduces the idea of everyone having an Inner Retard that screws with them for the rest of their lives. (Here is the clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHoX8dNLL4k but I encourage you to watch the full show because it is hilarious.)
So, my inner retard does stuff like, “It’s Friday! Diets don’t exist on Fridays!”, “that’s what a corset is for!”, “You know your boobs will shrink first, and then you’ll just look like an old dude.” or, one of my favourites is when my inner retard says “Why are we doing this? No one cares what you look like anyway.” While I’m saying “yes, but I want to do better in martial arts, and I want to be able to do physical things without feeling self-conscious or-” “SHUT UP! WANT FOOD.”
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkCxHoeaHgo – This is Dylan Moran discussing this inner dichotomy. He does this as the encore, so be forewarned, he leaves, but then he comes back.)
So, if you don’t watch that link, the next part won’t make sense, so watch the bloody link or EVERYTHING WILL GO WRONG FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.
FIBRE. You know what happens when you eat a lot of fibre and you have a picky digestive system? It means you have intestinal cramps EVERY FUCKING DAY because your intestines are like “What the fuck is this? What am I supposed to do with this? This is like being buried alive with RICE YOU NEVER WANTED TO EAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!” So, imagine, for a minute, going to the gym in the morning and feeling like you have a chestburster that got confused and went down instead of out, and is now panicking, writhing around in your innards like a panicked labradoodle. Now imagine that happening while you’re trying to exist, let alone when you’re trying to do something that requires you to maintain focus, when all you can really think of is “OWWWW, JUST KILL ME! OH GOD, IT HURTS! Owowowowowowww STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW, OR I WILL RIP YOU OUT AND LEAVE YOU IN A DUMPSTER! … Or sell you on eBay as ‘gently used…’ Seriously, FUCK OFF!” You know how much it sucks to want to punch yourself in the belly to make it shut up and leave you alone?
So… why am I doing this? BECAUSE I CAN. No matter how much it hurts, I CAN DO THIS. And maybe eventually it won’t hurt so much.