Here's to my health, comrade!

Wait! I can sign up for the NEW Buddig Lunch Club at buddiglunchclub.com, where...wait for it...I can discover 'helpful tips for saving time and money at mealtime.' That's all I need when I'm choking down a sandwich at my desk while reading spam emails: more fucking time to sit around and think about voluntary bodily pollution. The coupon was stuck inside the few remaining turkey folds, carbon-based ink on fatty flesh. I can hear my cells multiplying.

The flip-side of the coupon is for five dollars off a purchase of EA Sports Active fitness program for the Wii. Then, above home-mortgage-level paragraphs of fine-print, an alpha-numeric code to enter on their website. Maybe they're admitting that their nitrate-laden, thinly sliced deli meats are crap, sure to bring a man to his early death. I lived almost exclusively off Buddig sandwiches in college, and earned nothing more than a double-chin and restricted sex-appeal. But, at least I had time to think about my horrible celibacy.

I'm glad the good folks at Buddig are encouraging physical activity, but why not a coupon for something more useful, like discounts on beer and laundry services? Why not a coupon for Russian mail-order brides? Then, they could make my Buddig sandwiches. Sweaty, cardiac arrest-sex with Svetlana would be a lovely way to bow out.

I don't even own a Wii. To me, the Wii is something best enjoyed with the company of others, and my apartment is usually a single-occupant dwelling. I played Wii tennis and golf about a month ago, and damn near tore each muscle in my body. My gym membership isn't exactly paying for itself.

Still, I'm an active consumer. I could buy a bag of fresh veggies in the supermarket, invest in a wok, and pretend I know anything more about gourmet cooking than how to not explode a microwavable hot dog. I could go on a juice diet, and eat strained spinach siphoned through a Zen monk's ass. I could stop pretending that mayonnaise on bread constitutes the base of the food-pyramid. Or, much more likely, I'll continue to eat processed deli-meats in bed while reading Spin magazine. The first step towards recovery is admitting I have a problem.