May 24th, 2007


Rock Hard, Washerboard Fl-abs!

Question: how fat do you let a woman get before it's OK to ask if she's pregnant or not?

So, I've been living off of a steady diet of floor crumbs and Freddy's long, shedding hair this week in an effort to prevent my rampant overeating; it's been a mixed bag full of nausea and adventure. Walk with me.

Have you ever had one of those $2 TV Dinners? I'm not talking Hungry Man, now, I'm talking about those little jobs. You've got three courses: meat, vegetable, and variable third consisting of either brownie, mashed potatoes, or macaroni and cheese. Here is my review of the $2 TV Dinner.

Monday, I had the fried chicken meal, which consists of 1 breaded, fried chicken breast simmering in its own microwaved grease; with mashed potatoes and corn.

{{Just an aside before I get started here, there are two ways you're allowed to cook these meals according to the box: Conventional Oven and Microwave Oven. You don't purchase the $2 TV Dinner for the flavor or the overall quality of the eating experience; ergo, you don't sit around for 20-30 minutes waiting on an oven set at 350 degrees when you're starving balls because all you've had to eat that day is a bagel and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just so you can scarf the fucking thing down in two minutes. In short, all of these TV Dinners will be microwaved.}}

The fried chicken tasted like it should; I found myself sucking marrow out the fucking bone I was so hungry. Not really, because that's disgusting, but I put far more effort into picking that bone clean since I knew it was the only piece coming my way.

The corn tasted like corn; it came in its own little compartment on the black plastic TV Dinner Tray and it could've fit on its very own table spoon without any spilling (though, I sparsed that portion of my meal into two or three bites to savor the corny goodness).

The mashed potatoes ... made me not hungry anymore, for reasons other than being full. Let's move on.

Tuesday, I had the chicken strips. Three of them, approximately three inches long and about an inch wide (please folks, save your dick humor until the end of the ride). The chicken strips came out soggy! I had no barbecue sauce, so they were eaten soggy, and without sauce. This meal contained a small portion of small french fries, crinkle cut, each fry no longer than one inch, some as small as one centimeter (again, folks, there will be plenty of time at the END of the show for penis jokes). And then there was the brownie.

The $2 TV Dinner Brownie is an interesting phenomenon, I must say. So, it comes out of the freezer ... frozen, but as a frozen blob of goo. Then, it sits in the microwave for a couple, three minutes and it's suddenly solidified, fluffed up a bit even. I don't really know what happens after that, so I flipped the chicken strips and put it in for another minute. I must say, the brownie came out ALMOST brownie-like. Imagine, if you will, that there is a Norse God of Pastrymaking. He's been around since the dawn of time, concocting these delicacies with his lightning bolts full of flour and whatnot. Will call him ... Marzipor. So, Marzipor's on his mountain in the sky doing his thing, and then he steps out to take a piss and his mentally challenged younger brother takes control of the reins. Marzipor has been in the process of inventing brownies, and his idiot brother decides to put his own stamp on things. The result: $2 TV Dinner Brownie.

Wednesday, yesterday, was by far the worst of the lot. We saw the Return of the Mashed Potatoes, only this time I got peas instead of corn. And, as a main entry, I suffered the Triad of Imminent Suffering: Turkey, Gravy, and Stuffing. Only, it wasn't turkey so much as three thin strips of turkey bologna; and it wasn't stuffing so much as five or six soggy, flavorless crutons; and it wasn't gravy so much as frozen, then re-heated luke-warm diarrhea from the bowls of a jackyl.

Fortunately, I was near-blind from the lack of energy intake, so I managed to shove this slop down my gullet in managable bites.

But, oh those potatoes. You cook them twice because they're fortified with evil. I didn't know that, but it says so right there on the box. "Fortified with your daily recommended allowance of evil." Then, to add a little flavor, I put a small forkful of Brommel & Brown margarine with a dash of salt and seven or eight dashes of pepper. What ends up sliding down into my stomach when all is said and done is the kind of thing reminiscent of 19th Century British Boarding School gruel, except flavored in such a way as to make it even less palatable.

Surely, these meals aren't enough to satisfy an overweight man's quest for hunger elimination, but once those pockets of mashed potatoes are taken down, you'll never want to consume food again.

Tonight, I got the mini-pizza meal. I'm assuming it's one small rectangle of pepperoni and cheese sogginess, with fries and macaroni and cheese. Friday, I think we're getting a rerun of the Chicken Strips meal.

Ahh weight-loss, taste the excitement!