There’s a game that I like to play when I’m with friends, the animal game. It’s fairly simple. Everyone convenes and an animal is assigned to each person. The criteria for each person’s animal is straight-forward: it’s the animal you most resemble. When I was younger and more athletic (in my glory days), people often said that I resembled a puma, a bald eagle (but with flowing hair) or a great white shark, because of my rippling muscles. Then I discovered the vast arrays of different foods that I could consume and slowly, the animals began to change. Early on, it became a sloth, then a manatee and finally, a platypus. When I discovered Shake Shack, I became an obese warthog, a pregnant trout and worst of all, Rosie O’Donnell. I knew it was time to make a change.
I planned a hunger strike and to my surprise, actually made it past the crucial ninety-minute mark. After one hundred and twelve minutes of not snacking, I woke up from my nap and ate a cheeseburger. I knew it was time to make a change… again.
This time, I really focused. You all might have heard of the seafood diet, where you see food and eat it. (Witty.) Well, for me, it was the green food diet, where I only ate food that was green. (Wittier. Not.) After I started cheating and just put a lot of lettuce on my bacon cheeseburgers, I was sent to Jamal. Jamal is my personal trainer and I’m basically his bitch. Honestly, he could force me to do a pushup if he wanted to, and that’s saying something. No, Jamal is awesome, he works me like a mule (Do mules work? I’m not a farmer, I have no idea.) and he even tells me inspirational stories while forcing me to plank for two minutes. (Planking is where one holds oneself up like a plank for as long as possible, grimacing in pain and rupturing one’s spleen.) I feel like we’re soul mates or something. In a bro way though. Oh and as of now, my animal status has been upgraded to a diabetic armadillo! Call People magazine, because we have a success story!