Thursday, August 27, 2009

The Biscut Strikes Back

So...I have been sitting at my desk all day trying to ignore the bitch on my

shoulder who keeps going...fatty want some fried chicken...mmhhmmmm

delicious spicy Popeyes...come and get it...soooouueeeyy...here fatty

fatty....


I eat grapes...and ignore her. Fuck you little shoulder bitch I can do

this...



I begin to get curious...so I go online to Popeyes, you know just to check

on the points values...



I then spend the next 30 minutes dowloading Adobe Reader so that I can see

the nutritional information from Popeyes...



I then discover that one spicy leg (batter, skin and all) is 2pts. What 2

points? Why shucks that ain't nothing...two legs is 5 pts (WW math is

really odd - but my handy dandy points calculator to the rescue).



Then...well look here they have green beans...only 1pt. Why chicken and

green beans, well hunny you can eat that sure 'nuff. Why you will run those

points off tonight.



Then I think...biscut. I LOVE Popeyes biscuts. They are the lover of my

soul. So I look...6 pts a friggin biscut - YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING Me...



But then that bitch on my shoulder starts yapping...well you get 8 activity

points for your run...blah, blah, blah.



Suddenly I have decided, 2 legs, 1 biscut and green beans. A steep lunch at

12 points but hey my run is worth 8 right? So I'll eat GREAT tonight. I

then call my mother to seek permission for this action as if WW has suddenly

made me three. In reality I need to talk/think it over, process. As I sped

towards the nearest Popeyes (which I know gets shut down frequently and

often scores POORLY on its health inspections...but hey a girls got NEEDS

you know?)...



I order..green beans first....



The crackly drive through voice..."Mam we don't have green beans"



Well SHIT...there goes the healthy part...



2 spicy legs and a biscut please...



As I get to the window he says is a voice so slurred its a mixture of

jiggabo, eubonics and I was high before I came to work, he informs me that

the biscut comes with my legs...did I want the extra biscut. I firmly say

NO and shake my head side to side. 2 biscuts - you crazy??



I get my box...sign the receipt...



And pull around THE BACK OF THE GAS STATION AND PARK. As if eating BEHIND

the gas station will somehow make this less shameful. I already know I won't

be making any progress in the slow food movemement. My only hope is that

someone doesn't report a hyena attacking bones in a black truck behind a gas

station.



Then





I





Open





THE





BOX





and lo and fricken behold I must have looked hungry or something becuase

home fries has put not ONE BUT TWO 6PT BISCUTS IN MY BOX...



Fuck. Now what?



Do I drive back through and demand he remove the biscut from my box? A

better woman might have. Do I ship it to Africa for the starving kids?

Impractical - those lines at the post office and all. Should I drive to

Bryan and give it to the homeless? Gas is too expensive. Should I ask a

random person to take the biscut? Again, I'm trying to avoid a newsworthy

story here...



(Let me also mention that home slice put TWO packets of honey in the box -

WHO DOES THAT??!! Where is the SLACKER Popeyes guy who throws just the

chiken in the box and FORGETS your biscut...)



I eat, okay DEVOUR one piece of chicken..this might not be KFC but it is

finger lickin good.



I ginerly bite into the first, dually authorized biscut...savoring, tasting,

orgasming...etc.



Soon both pieces of chicken and the first biscut are gone.



Then its me and the bisuct behind the gas station...the biscut is taunting

me...Fatty eat me...my mind desperatly tries to calculate um 2 biscuts at 12

points (probably higher - remember the weird math???) plus 5 pts for

chicken...that is 17 pts...I get 26 pts per day, my run is 8 points...



At which point I implode.



All good thoughts and willpower? Where did they go?





I'm pretty sure they are still behind the gas station.







I





ATE





the





BISCUT.





And I licked my fingers. And I didn't want to swallow the last bite becuase

my mouth was EXPLODING with happiness.






And I SPED away.



I was back at work in 15 minutes...



If I don't mark it on my timesheet did it ever actually happen?



I mean, well..


At least I didn't eat the honey...



Don't go judgin me or nothing...

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