I can't even read that title, so I'm sure no one else can, either. Whatever- deal with it. What I am trying to say is that I recently ventured into the next frontier of weight loss- wait for it- the "social" diet.
When I moved to Florida, I thought I was a reasonable looking person. Not super thin, but decently put together. And then I looked around. Women here are THIN. I don't know if the excessive heat melts the fat off, or if having to spend 364 days a year in a bikini is enough to ruin appetites, but something about this place makes it just full of skinny women. Is this where ex-yoga teachers come to retire since the environment so closely resembles one of those crazy hot rooms that they torture people in? Is my town full of women who aged out of playing Jasmine in Disney on Ice? Wherever they're coming from, they're all hot. Damn it.
Because I am decidedly NOT hot, I decided that maybe I should do something about my outlook and my Dunlop (if you're unfamiliar with that term, it means that your stomach dunlopped over your belt) and find something inspiring online. That's when I stumbled onto DietBet (www.dietbetter.com) - the hottest sensation sweeping, well, me. When you join a DietBet, you essentially wager money that you can lose 4% of your body weight in a month. For the DietBet that I joined, that worked out to 7.5 pounds, and I bet $25. If I lose the weight, I am guaranteed to at least make the money I bet back. If I lose and other people don't, I get their money, too. So now not only can you fail at losing weight, but you can lose money too! Sounds like the most depressing idea in human history- right up there with Leprosy and the cancellation of My So-Called Life.
Luckily for me, I only function under this kind of pressure. Left to my own devices, I will procrastinate WAY beyond the point of reason and never start anything. With money on the line, you bet your ass I will try to lose some of my ass. And lose some of my ass I did. Eight pounds of it, to be exact. I'm pretty sure all eight pounds of it was not lost from my actual ass though, just to be clear. The only ass that can handle that amount of fluctuation in a month belongs to the owner of the Northwest Passage. (That's a veiled reference to Kim Kardashian's lady parts, for anyone wondering.) I think that a little of my Dunlop is gone, and the second to last toe on my right foot seems just a tiny bit thinner. All in all, I'd call that a success.
How much money did I win? I bet that's the entire reason you're still reading this, huh? Jerk. Joke's on you, I don't even know yet. The DietBet gods need 24 to 36 hours to deliver one of those giant checks to my house. I'll report back, probably from Dubai where I plan on investing my new fortune in a series of ill-conceived Nathan's Famous Hot Dog locations.
TO BE CONTINUED when I find out how much I won!!!!!!! Try not to stroke out from the excitement!!!!!
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