Moo and Oink

Yesterday I performed an experiment in excess. I chose a sin (one of the seven) and embodied it to the fullest extent imaginable. The sin: Sloth. The embodiment: Bloblike.

I woke up at 9:30 with a splitting headache that I pretty much owe to David Bowie. After an hour of laying in bed pretending the world didn't exist (an art I perfected on Saturday when I spent about six waking hours cuddled up in a bed), I got up and walked a full 9 steps to my couch, dragging my comforter behind me like that Peanuts kid who always drags his filthy blanket around.

When I finally arrived huffing and puffing to the internet couch, I looked at my little Google calendar and saw NOTHING! This was me:

Thanks, nataliedee.com!

So I indulged in my favorite pasttime ever: playing the Sims and watching Charmed for 12 straight hours. It's really exhausting and a great workout. You can tell because at 10:30 that night I was exhausted and went to bed and today I woke up totally sore in my right leg and along my right oblique from all the work I had to do grabbing the remote to skip the title sequences. What with selecting episodes and occasionally switching discs, I may have burned as many as 20 calories! Eat your heart out, South Beach Diet!

Speaking of calories, clearly I could not prepare food on a day such as this so I ordered in an omelette with ham on the side in the morning and a huge bowl of chicken curry with rice in the evening and I ate everything on the couch and got rice all over me. This was me:

Thanks again, nataliedee.com!

In conclusion, my couch has a butt dent the size of Alaska and pretty soon I'll be washing myself with a rag on a stick.

Putting the [fat]as[s] in Christmas

I spent 48 straight hours on the couch this weekend, only taking occasional breaks to sleep and answer the door when my Chinese came. (Once it was sesame chicken and once it was my friend Harry.... because he's Chinese, get it?) My muscles are actually stiff from not moving.

This Christmas weekend left me feeling lazy, fat, eyeball-sore, asexual, and especially Jewish. Sounds like I'm due for a mid-life crisis..

I was excited to go out and see the sun today, but it's raining. I was excited to go to work today and break the routine and do something important, but now that I'm here, the things that feel important are to see what happens next on Smallville, to eat another pint of Godiva mint chocolate ice cream, and to get the power-up and win the game.

But Christmas has also taught me some important lessons. I learned that ice cream is not actually filling, so one should always have another pint on hand (what's a birthday without ice cream?). I learned that beer and hummus is a delightful combination. I learned that not showering for 44 hours is really good for my hair. But mostly I learned that Christmas is all about greedy self-indulgence and I feel bad for all you dorks who had to pay for plane flights home to get socks from your great aunties.

The Hannukkah Spirit!

Next year, I move that everyone screws the gift-giving and family-visiting and maid-milking and sits on their ass for three days. Call your families and say "Thanks but no thanks, I got other plans this year. You have my address, send my gifts in the mail and don't forget the receipt." Forget the stupid lights. That's effort. Forget buying for other people. That's selflessness. Nobody appreciates you anyway.

If we get enough people on board, maybe the economy will collapse. Hell, maybe we'll offend Jesus so much, he'll come back! He might be in a bit of a tiff, but a second coming's a second coming, right? Everybody wins! ....except me and all my heathen gay Jew left-wing aborting lesbian orgymates. But really, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the world's biggest slothfest.

Ok, all that sacreligion left a chalky taste in my mouth. I'm going to Starbucks. Merry Dickmas!