A travel advisory for anyone who’s ever started a diet on a Monday and ended it by lunch.
I once got arrested at the airport for ten pounds of crack.
I went to the zoo once and people tried to ride me!
I’m so fat that when I applied for the biggest loser tv show. They said, “sorry, there’s a weight limit.”
I can’t see my feet without sitting down!
Best way to lose weight, buy bigger clothes!
Diet religion – a last supper every 3 weeks.
Attention passengers: The Blobville Express is now boarding on Track 7… because why take the stairs? This is your conductor speaking—please keep your hands, feet, and tummy inside the ride at all times. Our estimated time of arrival is “as soon as the jeans don’t button,” with scenic delays expected at Snack Cart Junction.
Route Overview
- Platform Panic: We’ll begin with bold declarations: “New Me, New Body, No Bread.” Our confidence will be strong until someone mentions nachos or pizza or ice cream, or fatburgers, or french fries, or…
- Denial Canyon: This dramatic gorge is best viewed while insisting that “calories don’t count if you’re standing” and “cashews are a protein, therefore a health food, therefore peanut brittle is basically CrossFit.”
- Snack Cart Junction: Scenic stop featuring “air-fried” everything and samples “for science.” Passengers are encouraged to taste modestly, which we define as “left, right, reload.”
- Willpower Switchback: A winding stretch where you will heroically decline dessert, then bravely accept four “goodbye bites” for closure.
- Keto Gulch: A picturesque valley where you’ll eat bacon like it’s a multivitamin and google, “Is cheesecake a fat?”
- Intermittent Fasting Flats: A tranquil plain where we don’t eat for 16 hours, and then eat for 16 minutes like we’re competing on a cooking show called So You Think You Can Chew.
- The workout car: where the best exercise is fork presses.
Onboard Amenities
Seatback Pity Pockets™ include emergency chocolates “for low morale.” Our dining car serves Salad of Regret (now 40% croutons), Water of Resolve (carbonated), and the ever-popular Accountability Bread Basket (please don’t ask).
Safety Briefing
- If you see something, say something: e.g., “This ‘protein bar’ is just a Snickers wearing a lab coat.”
- In case of turbulence: Pretend celery is exciting. Practice saying “Mmm, crunch!” until you believe your own lies.
- Emergency exits: Located at the gym you definitely joined and the dog you promised to walk like you’re training for Recon.
- Never jog: in red sweat pants, drive by’s are discouraging, “hey Santa” followed by peals of laughter.
Common Passenger Types
- Meal Prep Marine: Deploys Tupperware with the precision of a drill instructor, then goes MIA at the pizza party.
- Macro Accountant: Measures a Cheerio on a jeweler’s scale, then drinks a milkshake called “Bulking Season.”
- Cardio Diplomat: Negotiates peace between treadmill and recliner with a binding treaty called “Tomorrow.”
Scenic Overlooks
Mount Motivation (best viewed at 7:00 a.m.), Plateau Prairie (bring a book), and The Mirror of Harsh Truths (frequently fogged by shower steam and rationalizations).
Dining Car Specials
Soup de jour: Cabbage with rotten vegetable broth*
The Monday Manifesto: Organic promises served on a bed of optimism, topped with a drizzle of “This Time For Real.”
Wednesday Wobble: A sampler of small cheats that add up to one large confession. Comes with a complimentary napkin to cry into.
Friday Full Send: Tasting menu of “I was good all week” with a dessert flight called Consequences.
The Last Supper – everything you can’t eat on a diet, complete with wine and bread.
Conductor’s Announcements
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, the schedule is wrong.”
“We’ll be slowing as we pass through Excuse Meadows where visibility is low and birthdays are frequent.”
“Please remain seated until your cravings have come to a complete stop. They won’t, but we like to say that.”
Arrival Procedures
Upon arrival in Blobville, please claim your luggage (two dumbbells and a blender) and proceed directly to the Department of Do-Overs. There you’ll receive a New Ticket for the Local to Leanville, departing daily at “Right Now.”
Final Destination (No, Not the Movie)
Look, chowhound: you don’t need a miracle timetable—just a sane one. Water, sleep, protein, fiber, a walk that actually counts, and fewer “I earned this” speeches. The train goes where the tracks are laid. Lay better tracks, take a better trip.
Try to remember this little ditty before you shove that wad of pie into your gaping maw. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels
Why to this day I still can’t stand cabbage
My roomie and I once heard of this crazy weight loss plan called, the Cabbage Soup Diet. We both liked cabbage and vegetables so we thought we would give it a shot. Big mistake, had we known this we would have thought twice and ordered a pepperoni pizza while we researched other ways to drop some poundage: The Cabbage Soup Diet is a temporary, calorie-restrictive fad diet that involves eating a low-calorie cabbage soup for seven days, supplemented with limited amounts of other specific foods like fruits, vegetables, and lean meats. While proponents claim it leads to rapid weight loss, this loss is primarily water and fat, not sustainable, and the diet is nutritionally inadequate and potentially unhealthy for short-term use, leading to fatigue and muscle loss. Experts advise against it due to its unsustainable nature and potential side effects like flatulence and nutritional deficiencies. Did they say flatulence? More like nuclear waste disposal to put it mildly. Add threats of violence from co-workers needing the bathroom after your porcelain grabbing nightmare and you have some idea. We laugh uproariously about it now, back then it lead to some serious JA and not so funny bouts in the crapper.