If you ever need some motivation to get fit, just look at Serge Ibaka. Even better, use the powers of the internet to locate a shirtless picture of him. He is the embodiment of the male gender, the ideal human specimen, a picturesque Hercules who is more attractive than any man on the planet. Even I, a heterosexual male, am awestruck by the perfection of his statuesque body – I imagine that the female brain dissolves into neuronal sludge as soon as eyes are laid upon his rippling, corded muscles. If I had even a tenth of the muscle mass of Ibaka, I would have to dress in a hijab in order to deflect the female attention I would be receiving. And I can’t even dunk.
Instead, I’m currently consuming an entire bag of white cheddar Cheetos and I just finished off a 24-pack of Mountain Dew Code Red. For lunch today I made soup out of Chef Boyardee ravioli and ranch dressing, and I’ve got four freezer-aisle potpies baking in the oven for dinner. What I like to do with those potpies is carefully remove part of the crust, pour in some velveeta and crumbled up potato chips, and stir it around a bit. Voila! Cheesy potpie bake! I swear, the Food Network needs to give me a TV show. If they have that hack Sandra Lee making a Kwanzaa cake, they sure as hell can have DownToBuck making quick-n-easy meals for bachelors with a busy schedule.