Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The 1/2 lb. Flamethrower GrillBurger from DQ

I am ashamed of myself.

As 25 year old males go, I'm about as careful about the things I put into my body as most others.  That is to say that I'm not very careful at all.  I guess I figure that I'm young, and that until my body starts showing me that I need to stop gorging myself with QuadStackers and Crunchwrap Supremes, I'm going to continue to be a fast-food glutton.

Today I think I may have had the epiphany that my body has been waiting for - and that epiphany came in the form of the 1/2 lb Flamethrower GrillBurger from Dairy Queen. 

The epiphany came when, after eating the aforementioned atrocity, I returned to my desk and promptly felt like I was going to fall into a deep, Terry Schiavo-like coma - zero brain function, no quality of life.  My stomach ached as if I had been speared by Ray Lewis while trying to catch a pass over the middle - except two days later when the original shock has worn off and the black and blue marks have fully manifested themselves to the point that even the slightest twitch makes you feel like vomiting from the pain.

That was my life from 1 p.m. - 3 p.m. this afternoon.  It sucked.

You'd think that would be enough to convince me to stay away from the 1/2 lb. Flamethrower Grillburger for life.

And you'd be right - for now.

You see, these things happen to me all the time.  I eat some type of fast-food abomination, feel like crap for an entire day, then swear it off.  Then a week later, like an alsheimers patient, I revert back to my old ways - ordering the greasiest thing I can find on the menu of whichever vile, filth-ridden establishment I find myself in.

I can't even tell you how many times I've sworn off jalapenos at Subway,  General Tso's chicken, and Pizza Hut altogether.  And yet lunchtime came today and I completely abandoned the list of references I had piled up in the back of my mind which would have prevented me from having the type of afternoon that I did.

But instead, I thought about other things.

I imagined two thick and juicy 1/4 lb. burgers smothered in a fiery Tabasco-flavored mayo with pepper jack cheese, jalapeno bacon, thick-cut tomato and lettuce and served on a toasted bun.

I imagined a burger that, if combined with medium fries and a 12 oz. Coke, equates to a whopping 1,640 calories and 84 grams of fat.

I imagined how good it would taste, not how I would feel after I ate it.

This is the final straw.  I'm totally swearing off fast food for fear of feeling like I did this afternoon: exhausted,  overfull, ashamed.

I give myself til Friday.