There’s this guy at the gym who we secretly named “Booty Shorts,” because well, you guessed it: he wears booty shorts. They are oh so short and super tight, although not tight enough because sometimes “things” pop out. I’m not talking about ass cleavage either, which is most definitely in full view. Let’s just say Booty Shorts isn’t a fan of boxers OR briefs.
I don’t want to give the wrong impression. Booty Shorts is in great physical condition, and he’s tan enough he could pass for a cast member of the Jersey Shore. Simply put, he’s one of those muscle-bound beef cakes at the gym, which would be fine. I’ve got nothing against muscles. In fact, I need more of them. The true problem is you can’t talk to Booty Shorts because he gets real worked up, real fast, for no real reason. My guess is roids. I may be jumping to conclusions, but if you heard his tirades, you’d likely agree.
So in honor of Booty Shorts, I decided to amp up my snackage this past weekend. I stormed into the kitchen, threw ingredients around and pummelled my dishware. The end result was snacks on roids, which is the only time steroids are acceptable. Well unless you’re having an allergic reaction; they’re acceptable then too and usually doctor prescribed.
“What exactly does snacks on roids look like?” you ask.
I didn’t stop there either because it wouldn’t really be snacks on roids. It’d just be beefed up snacks and where’s the fun in that? I needed to bring in the big guns, and the heavy artillery certainly made an appearance.
Remember my little bitty energy bites: they were delicious and packed a power punch, but a complete pain in the arse to roll (sorry, my Irish slipped out).
Well, I scrapped the bites and made them into bars instead (thanks MB; you’re a genius).
Same great taste, brand new shape with half the effort. These are efficiency at its finest and boy, do I like efficiency (and my German makes an appearance; before you know it, all my personalities will be at the party).
I still wasn’t satisfied, because really, who on steroids ever really is?
So, I went full-blown crazy in the kitchen. There was shouting, screaming and maybe even dancing. Alright, there was definitely dancing.
And for all my efforts, I took my sweet innocent granola packed peanut butter cups…
and super sized them instead. Peanut Butter Cups on Roids.
Now, my beefed up PB cups may be connected with a lack of mini-muffin liners at the grocery store, and my whole over the top snackage might have something to do with having an entire weeks worth of working lunches (try saying that three times fast).
I’m sure most sane people would be overjoyed to be getting a free lunch every day.
Not me though. When I’m eating out or having lunch brought in as the case would be, I have little to no control over what’s in my food. My guess is it’s not the high quality ingredients I use at home, and I suspect…no I know, my lunch will contain a random chemical or preservative so it can maintain its fresh appearance for 2.6 years. It will also be home to lots of hidden salts and sugars, which certainly isn’t the end of the world (some people have 99 real problems; my lunch isn’t one). Surely, I will survive a week’s worth of high fructose corn syrup; hell I did it for years before…it was called college.
My real solution to my lunch time crisis is to step up my snacks. This way if my lunch options are really sad, I can chew on some iceberg lettuce publicly (gross) before returning to my office to plow through some granola or pumpkin cranberry crunch. Normally, I wouldn’t advocate snacks being a substitute for a meal, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Ask Booty Shorts, he’ll rage, but I’m sure he’ll agree.
Do you have a Booty Shorts guy at your gym? Does the thought of a weeks worth of provided lunches send shivers down your spine too? If so, how do you prepare?