This news should be frightening to anyone who does not live the Drink Your Carbs lifestyle. Those of us on Drink Your Carbs could not care less. We are not impacted because we don’t eat this crap for non-spooky-additive reasons.
The reason those of us on Drink Your Carbs won’t eat a McRib is that the only parts of the sandwich that meet the requirements of our diet are the pickles and onion slices. The rest of the McRib is inseparable from the bread and high fructose corn syrup.
One final reason never to touch a McRib: without adding a drink or fries, the McRib dials in at 500 calories. 500 calories is a quarter of a glass shy of an entire bottle of wine. That’s a trade no one on Drink Your Carbs should ever make.
The end of the world is not upon us. We are shocked by how many people we know expect an apocalyptic event in 2012. The predictions range from solar flares frying half the earth’s population to the non-existent planet Nibiru smashing into the earth and reducing it to a smoldering lump. It’s true that the Mayan calendar ends December of 2012, but so what? Every calendar we’ve ever owned ended at the close of the year. For example, the very first calendar Steven owned was a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders calendar that he got from his Texan grandfather in 1978. It ended abruptly on December 31st, 1978 with the calendar’s only brunette. Yet 1979 came along just like every year before it.
When we first heard the names SOPA and PIPA, we assumed they were the protagonists in a series of children’s books. We couldn’t understand why so many techies we admire would be up in arms against SOPA And PIPA Go To The Circus. Although we could understand why Tim Cook would be troubled by SOPA And PIPA Visit A Rural Chinese iPhone Sweatshop. As with so many things in life, it turned out we were entirely wrong.
SOPA and PIPA are schemes devised by the same geniuses that once described the Internet as a “series of tubes” to turn the Internet into a gladiatorial battle between corporate legal departments. If you lack a corporate legal department, you are, for all practical purposes, the guy in the gimp suit from the basement scene in Pulp Fiction. Best of luck proving your innocence when Disney comes after you under the guise of a copyright violation, even though their real reason for silencing you is your tweet: “Mickey Mouse spreads hantavirus.”
Ronald McDonald singlehandedly destroyed the institution of lunch. In 1955 McDonald’s introduced the restaurant kitchen to the concept of the sweatshop style assembly line. Their theory was that “fast and cheap” would trump “good,” “fresh,” and “healthy.” Hindsight tells us that they were one hundred percent correct. Their new standard spread like meth through a rural high school or, if you prefer, like herpes through a university drama club.
Breakfast was the first to fall. Morning food was replaced with pellets poured into a bowl from a cardboard box. The difference between feeding children and pets is now distinguishable only by the color of the box. Lunch fell soon thereafter. Suddenly, a frozen meat puck sweating and blistering on a flat top griddle became not only a suitable replacement for actual sustenance, but sought after. Dinner is still holding out, fighting a glorious battle against advancing mediocrity. But lunch has been lost. Even upscale restaurants, though they are loath to admit it, now labor under the cruel whip of Ronald McDonald. Those who serve lunch have been forced to dumb down their menu to be comparatively fast and cheap.
It’s one thing to make a vague New Year’s resolution. It is a wholly different thing to test yourself objectively and use that test as a benchmark to revisit later in the year. For example, instead of just resolving to lose weight, you can step onto a scale and write down the number you see. That number becomes the baseline to which you will compare all trips to the scale throughout 2012. If anyone sees your number, feel free to tell them it’s the combination to your gym locker. If you are not obsessed with weight but instead want to improve you body shape—which we think is actually a healthier approach—take off your shirt and snap a picture. But don’t carry that picture around on your cellphone unless you don’t care if it winds up on TMZ.
There are lots of ways to set a benchmark. The key is finding something that can be evaluated or measured in a repeatable way. In that spirit, today our gym took us through a series of heavy lifts known as the Crossfit Total.