Since by the end of the month I will be closer to the age of fifty than to forty, and because, as an empirical mammal, I understand that my regular intake of dark rum, tacos, and Peruvian flake is not indefinitely sustainable, I recently tried what is euphemistically known as a "kale chip." I did not know what to expect, but the morning shows tell me it is a "superfood," and who am I to disagree that I deserve a cape?
So, uh, how do I put this delicately. Sweet Jebus, it didn't even meet the low expectations I had for, well, a baked weed. Friends, have you ever had occasion to suck a fart out of the asshole of a dying water buffalo? That's the aftertaste, and it took an hour and about a quart of water to make it go away. Of course, then the water makes you belch a little bit, so the taste comes back.
I dunno, unless and until I start looking like Artie Lange or something, I'll just stick with moderation and some exercise when possible. I grew up watching Jack LaLanne juicing everything and doing triceps dips on kitchen chairs every spare moment, and even as a kid knew that was a fucked way to go through life. I'd much rather live to be 70 and eat steak and peach pie and drink good beer and have sex, than live to be 100 on nuts and twigs and constantly lifting household objects.
Anyhoo, kale chips. Serves 5, if they dare. Bon appetit!
So, uh, how do I put this delicately. Sweet Jebus, it didn't even meet the low expectations I had for, well, a baked weed. Friends, have you ever had occasion to suck a fart out of the asshole of a dying water buffalo? That's the aftertaste, and it took an hour and about a quart of water to make it go away. Of course, then the water makes you belch a little bit, so the taste comes back.
I dunno, unless and until I start looking like Artie Lange or something, I'll just stick with moderation and some exercise when possible. I grew up watching Jack LaLanne juicing everything and doing triceps dips on kitchen chairs every spare moment, and even as a kid knew that was a fucked way to go through life. I'd much rather live to be 70 and eat steak and peach pie and drink good beer and have sex, than live to be 100 on nuts and twigs and constantly lifting household objects.
Anyhoo, kale chips. Serves 5, if they dare. Bon appetit!
6 comments:
I'll choke down one of these occasionally, but yeah, I don't think anyone's ever improved on the ancient Greek advice. Everybody's gotta die of something. I'm eagerly awaiting the study that shows how obsessing over the countless variables involved in maximizing life expectancy actually lowers it.
Also, IOZ's still among the living; he just shed his anonymity for the purposes of promoting his novel.
Yeah, the other thing I recall from my childhood re fitness (my father played tennis at a decent amateur level well into his sixties, so it was a frequent topic of discussion with him) was Jim Fixx, who helped popularize running back in the late '70s, and keeled over from a heart attack at the ripe old age of 52. He was in perfect shape. Except.
Thanks for the tip on IOZ. I just assumed he had gotten tired of blogging, but I'm glad he's still writing after all.
Speaking of being in shape, have you seen Axl Rose lately? How old do you feel now?
Jesus, is he auditioning for a Leprechaun reboot? Hard to believe he's only five years older than me.
You kids get off my lawn! Or I'll turn my am-plee-fy-er up to 11!!!!
I just turned the big 5-0. :(
The AARP junk mail is already arriving.
Heh-heh. Easy there, Gramps, you don't want yer milk of magnesia comin' back up on ya.
I have a feeling I'll be getting my AARP stuff soon; my wife (who is only a year older than me) has been getting that shit for a couple years already. Marketing!
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