I was at dinner with some friends last night when one of them mentioned the abysmal failure that was FatQuest2.
“I know,” I said. “I know, but what can you do? There are just too many good hamburgers out there that end their days alone and uneaten in some scary dumpster or other type of heretofore unknown trash receptacle.”
A single tear crossed my cheek “We can’t have that. Can we?”
But then I got to thinking. It’s those very hamburgers and other cholesterol-laden foods of the same ilk which are gathering near the top of the grave they have dug for me, waiting with baited breath to toss the first shovels full of dirt onto my still warm corpse. I can’t go out like this. Can I?
Naw, baby! (*CENSOR*) those hamburgers! It’s time to start again.
Except this time its for real. And I mean that. You know how I know? I ate an entire head of broccoli for breakfast. That might not sound like much to you (you skinny punk), but that’s a lot to a person whose system has grown accustomed to a regular influx of sugar coated meat and fried, breaded pseudo-cheese. That much nutrition that quickly can shock a system. It changes things, you know, on the inside, and can leave you scuffling in worried steps from your desk to the nearest bathroom; wondering if the impending doom within your lower intestines will hold its fury just a little while longer. When you put yourself through that kind of physical torture, you know you’re in it for the long haul.
The good thing is that, once your stomach adjusts and you get used to eating like a psychotic rabbit, it becomes easier. I don’t mean to say that you actually enjoy meals in the way you used to. It’s a change in mindset. A new form of stubbornness, if you will. Spend three weeks chomping on frozen grass and you tell yourself that you can’t quit or all those painful moments were for naught.
It’s the same reason the Rolling Stones keep pumping out crappy record after crappy record. “We’ve come this far,” they say, “we might as well keep on truckin.”
So the FatQuest has begun again. Except this time its in earnest. And unlike the trend in movie sequels where each successive sequels gets more pathetic each time you see it, this time we’ve saved the best for last. There are no sharks to jump and we won’t see an appearance of Hulk Hogan as “Thunderlips” here to wrestle Rocky Balboa. No. This sequel will be more like Indiana Jones or Die Hard. The good guys win and everybody goes home happy. So are you ready? Alright. Let’s go!