Am I the Biggest Loser? I Guess We'll See....

I really should know better than to surf the net at 7 AM on  a Saturday morning, especially when my husband gifted me the night before with like, the UGLIEST shirt ever as a Valentine's Day present. Which he literally threw at me across the room, still in the bag. It was spandex. And turquoise. And reminded me of something a very warty Grandma with enormous floppy breasts and a yellow-grey perm would wear. I know I'm forty, but I ain't yet flopping like that. And I couldn't prevent myself from telling him that this was the singularly most unattractive piece of clothing in the Western hemisphere and he could just take it back. (Bitchy, I know. But he didn't have to toss it at me like he was making a pass in a basketball game.)

So I'm in my ratty bathrobe, everyone is in bed, and this floppy-breasted Shirt from Hell has me painfully pondering the state of my own boobs. And backside. And muffin top. Because dudes, I've porked up.

After living most of my adult life at 153 pounds (with the exception of my pregnancies, when I morphed into the Michelin Man) I have crept my way up to 162 lbs on a 5 foot 7 bod. I feel threatened by the dreaded Front Butt for the first time in life. But why? Who the fuck knows. The peanut butter toast addiction certainly doesn't help. Or my crush on potato chips. And fries. And just plain 'ol potatoes. I would marry a potato if my husband were to keel over. And with a Diploma in Natural Nutrition, you'd think I'd know better, right? That's cuz I do. But I've never been great at actually doing what I know is best, at least when it comes to my weight.

In a moment of weakness, I find myself at the Biggest Loser Club website. They had a special on a three-month membership, along with three free books in the mail, for $29.95. God, I love that sadistic show. And I am an all-day sucker for anything free. I even sent for free catheters in the mail just because I could

. (Side Note: Does anybody need some catheters? I have some to spare. Email me. Same with extra-large Underoos and menopause remedy samples.)

So, in a bleary-eyed, caffeine-fueled moment of weakness I whip out the old credit card and sign myself up. What the hell, I think. I bet that's about the same amount Bob spent on the granny top, and maybe this will be the motivation I need to actually apply what I know to the person who needs to benefit most, MYSELF.

Now, let me clarify: I have no intention of following their menu plan. I know I can do better. And their fitness program seems a little weenie to me, so I'll be ramping that up too. But it does give me a place to be accountable to, some interesting reading material, and best of all, nothing motivates me more than wasting money on something useless, so I'm already primed to prove the $29.95 was not in vain.

And better still, after a quick perusal of the site, I think it's comedy blogging GOLD!

So stay posted, drop by often, and if there is anyone out there who has been considering joining this site, I promise you a knock-down, drag-out, brutally honest review of what the site can offer a gal, particularly a vegetarian.

Peace and Porkers!