Holiday Weight Craze

One of the worst things about doing gym is the way your brain cells automatically translate the phrase “Christmas food” to “Holiday weight.” They do this consistently, which I think is something of an irony considering these are the same brain cells that cannot identify, with any reliability, what comes after seven.

“Holiday weight,” they holler, as you ready a slice of ham the size of a chewing gum. “Holiday weight,” they whisper as you smell fruit salad. “Holiday weight,” they even tell you as you ready your serving of fat free yogurt, which isn't, technically, food.

Of course, it doesn't help that experts everywhere warn of holiday weight gain the same way they treat, for instance, nuclear holocausts. BBC reports that holiday weight gain is – are you ready for this – permanent. They essentially say that thanks to experts whose duties include

a) tracking how quickly bellies around the world are growing and,
b) telling news organizations that this year, like last year, they are shocked that the picture is bad

we can now rest easy as research shows that --- people never lose the weight they gain during the holidays.

Isn't that great? Not only does our body boast of new cells every seven years, apparently, it also creates a special repository for Christmas ham fat that kind of floats around in our mutant gigantic bellies that'd survive a nuclear winter.

Now, if you're wondering what force of nature would drive actual researchers to drop what they're doing, debate whether holiday weight is a real problem, and contact media organizations to say that the cheese in our Christmas menu will hang around – here's the official reason: they have croutons for brains.

I can't think of a year when, due to their forceful findings that the world's belly sizes are growing at the speed of racing f-16s, people have adopted boiled tofu for Christmas dinners, saying gleefully, “You know, I've always wanted a special repository of mulch in my belly.”

No. What usually happens is, we eat servings of ham fat the size of bowling balls, with cheese ball slices dipped in grease, the smell of chicken skin fried in beef fat dipped in mayo keeping the season interesting as we remind ourselves to shoot weight experts later in life and to never, ever trust British news organizations. Although we might have a fat free yogurt after.