Today's Topic:
The Food Trilogy, Part III

Welcome to Part III of The Food Trilogy. The last two columns of the The Food Trilogy ended with me eating a salad. This is funny because it never happens. But that doesn't mean that I don't occasionally eat healthy, (although never on purpose). Actually, I'm on a diet right now. It's what I call the "second hand diet," which means that my wife is on Weight Watchers, and therefore, by default, so am I.

I also did a sit-up once, which was so rare that it made national news headlines. Of course, the press release I sent out helped a little bit. Still, there were some skeptics who refused to believe the story, stating that it is based purely on hearsay and that there was no evidence to support it—no video recording of the actual event.

Not that any of that has an effect on my weight. It doesn't matter what I do; I can exercise or watch my portions, but no matter what, when it comes time to go to the doctor's, the nurse will tell me that I weigh the same amount. "Yup!" she'll say. "You're 215, just like it says here on your chart for the past ten years. It says, '215, and 215, and then 215 again.'" I could have my leg lopped off and then hop up and down on the scale on one foot and she'd still say, 'Mr. Smith, you weigh 215 lbs.'"

There was only one time it changed, which was when the doctor put me on a drug called Blimpo. It didn't take care of any other symptoms; it just added ten pounds to my weight.

You might say that I'm suffering from a "lack of malnutrition." This phrase is funny because I actually heard someone use it once. She didn't realize her error, at least not until she reads this column. "Lack of malnutrition" is a double-negative that actually means you're getting too much nutrition. When I heard it, I thought, Hey, that's what I'm suffering from! I have so much nutrition that I can't get rid of it fast enough.

The problem is that hunger is a relentless beast. In some of the old Weight Watcher commercials, hunger was portrayed as a cute little orange haired monster that looks like a stuffed animal. But that's incorrect. Hunger is a relentless stalking psychopath who pretends to be your friend but never leaves you alone. He's especially obnoxious at parties, potlucks, your friend's homes, the grocery store, and during holidays. Hunger has arms of bacon, fists made out of Ding Dongs, a stomach formed from rolls of freshly buttered French bread, legs made from burritos, and pizza slice feet. Hunger has the face of Mayor McCheese, but with eyes of malted milk balls, lips made out of red vines, and a beard of sour cream and onion dip. He has a pocket full of potato chips that he occasionally dips in his beard, and a backpack from which he can magically produce any other food you want when you most desire it, just like Santa's little bag of obesity.

Not too long ago, someone (clearly by mistake) told me that it looked like I had lost some weight. The problem with telling me this is that there's nothing that makes me hungrier. Dang, I think, I must be cutting back really well. I deserve a Snickers!

That's the problem with doing healthy things; there's all kind of long-term rewards, but there's no immediate gratification. That's why I think the ideal diet plan would account for that. If I take a walk around the block or pass on a Twinkie, I want a medal. I want recognition. I want a full piece brand band marching down the street playing my own personal theme as written by famed composer John Williams.

That's why I'm starting a new fitness plan with the slogan, "You deserve more for eating less." With my plan, every time you do something that's good for you, you might get a party, a free IPod download, or perhaps a pair of movie passes. Let's say you eat a low-fat yogurt, then you'd receive a commemorative pin.

I haven't figured out who's going to fund it, but I bet you I won't have much trouble getting people to sign up!

If that doesn't work, I've got another idea. I could carry kids from third-world countries around with me and whenever I'm tempted by food, I could just give it to them. Hey, I may have just discovered Angelina Jolie's diet plan!

Either way, you can't ever say that I'm not here to make the world a better place.