I am the picture of American Health and should serve as an inspiration to all.

I have taken great strides to improving my health and quality of life. A great decision has been made, as if God was channeling his desires for my life to improve right through my body.

But before I get into my plans for improving my health and well being so that someday I may grace the cover of Muscle&Fitness, I must declare victory in the long struggle against the switchover to digital cable. As I mentioned before, my RIGHT to watch television was in jeopardy of being infringed upon, but the Great Civil Rights Leaders of our time have stepped up in the face of adversity like Abraham Lincoln did to Robert E. Lee when General Grant was trying to impose a Communist Agenda upon our Great Nation with all of its freedoms, stimulus checks, and fine American products (including but not limited to chips, free-toh pies, NASCAR, cheetohs and double bacon cheeseburgers). Congress has delayed the switchover for at least another 6 months and this will surely give me ample time to buy my conversion box from WALLMART. I estimate it to be between a 6-18 hour journey to the WALLMART to procure my cable box, but assuming I pack between 3-5lbs of food and am not accosted by any bums, I should be fine.

I would now like to take this time to discuss what is one of Philadelphia's most rampant and terrifying problems, bordering on an epidemic. It is not drugs or violent crime. No, certainly not. As you may know, drugs and guns are part of the American DREAM, so I would never dream of taking the time to portray them in a negative light. I shudder to think that the RIGHT to OWN A GUN and commit violent crimes is being contravened.

No. The problem I am talking about is raccoons. Raccoons are perhaps the biggest threat to man in America these days. With their filthy habits, disease carrying attitudes and the general shame they are the largest pest known to man. They inhabit my backyard in ungodly large groups to eat my food scraps, trash and engage in sinful mating rituals.

The police have intruded on my RIGHTS and told me to remove the foul smelling trash from my backyard but I have ignored their requests and believed they were infringing on my Constitutional Rights. However, something must be done. Action must be taken and I demand that the government do something about the raccoon problem in my back yard. It would have been possible to take care of the trash had I done so at an early stage, but unfortunately the problem has snowballed out of control and I feel as if even my efforts to remove the raccoons from my backyard will end in failure. A few trucks and a dozen or so workers should be able to get rid of the trash, capture all the racoons and replant the dead grass that has resulted from the rubbish sitting stagnant for so long.

The only thing that can take my mind off the circus in my backyard (I can hear the creatures now, scratchy and growling, fighting over chicken bones and stale pork rinds) is the new Aston Martin V12 Vantage. This beheamoth and fantastic feat of engineering can only be described as orgasmic. I am nursing a semi right now just thinking about the opportunity to drive it. Perhaps my friend Vlad will have the proper connections to get me a chance to drive one. Sheer magnificence eminates from every body panel and to hear the 6 liter V12 that pumps out 510 bhp is to hear the voice of the British God himself.

THE RIGHT TO WATCH TELEVISION

I can feel the grip of the great government of America tightening on my oversized, chubby throat.
They are trying to revoke my American Right to watch television.
The switch to digital cable is a terribly confusing and overwhelming matter. It is causing me great stress and increasing my chances of getting diabetes. If I end up with diabetes someday, it will be the fault of my favorite of all government's then.
I understand that we are supposed to get a cable box or a voucher that costs $40 or is free. I am not sure. You can tell that I am in a state of confusion and disillusion.
The switch to digital cable has been planned for years and will finally happen in less than 2 weeks. That is, unless Congress chooses to delay it. I am thinking of contacting my state representative. I certainly need more time. Why would they do such a horrible thing to begin with? I demand that they drop off a digital conversion box at my house.

Now I understand that they have been advertising and explaining the concept for a long time, and all I have to do is make a wheezing, exhausting, 6 hour journey to the WALMART and get a digital receiver and it's not costing me anything, but the point is that IT'S THREATENING MY RIGHT TO WATCH TV. I have way better things to do, like eat rotisserie chickens and meat pies, and I still insist that it's a terribly confusing process.

Super Bowl 43 was an INSULT to proper NFL

As I have mentioned previously, the Super Bowl is by far the greatest holiday in the history of all mankind. I can say with great certainty that my personal Super Bowl experience was far superior to that of anyone else.
I had not been outside for 2 days so it was more than a great surprise to find that I had not sorted my mail from Friday and I had more than a few epic pieces of mail to sort out. First, the new Victoria's Secret. It is the Swim 2009 issue highlighting the wonderfully skimpy bathing suits that makes my large heart swell and palpitate and my man parts stiffen like lumber. I cradled the magazine and made a b-line straight back to my bedroom to have a private session with my new found catalog and best friend. However problems quickly arose when I realized there was no tissue paper near my bedside. I was aghast with terror and almost in anaphylactic shock from the thought of having to re-tie the waist strap on my grease stained navy blue sweatpants and make a wheezing 5 minute journey down the hall to procure a few squares of toilet paper for my private enterprises.
As I made my way down the hall I felt my face turn red and a warmth spread over my entire body. The warm sensation made my hands clench and my blood pressure spike. My legs felt tense and all of the colorful bathing suits, the images of tiny g-strings and perfectly shaped breasts hugged by glorious Victoria's Secret bathing suits flashed through my mind. The perfect models were my true objects of desire at that moment, more than any food no matter how deep fried or scrumptious it was. I grabbed against the wall and let out a moan and with that, I no longer had to go to the bathroom to procure the toilet paper. I felt a sense of relief that I had a satisfying experience without having to actually do work. My sweatpants were ruined for the day, but I had other pairs.
I was now relaxed enough to concentrate on getting my foods ready for the big game. I unwrapped my cheese trays and began boiling water for my canned cheeseburgers. I began to arrange my mozzarella, fried mushrooms and roasted peppers on my party size tray and I ate an entire pizza while doing so. I placed the MOUNTAIN DEW on ice and preheated the oven for my cheesesteak strombolis. My couch had never looked so inviting after the nearly impossible 10 minute task of unwrapping my food trays and preparing them for consumption.
The pregame Super Bowl shows I found boring and lacking insight. The endless drawl coming from the pregame host's mouths was nearly intolerable, so I started doubling up and eating twice as fast. This caused a shock to my system which caused me to black out a few times, and pass out just once or twice, but I drank a few dozen glasses of Mountain Dew which would sharpen up my concentration just in time for the game.
Personally I was hoping to see the wonderful Arizona Cardinals win the game because I have more than a few gripes with the horrible and primordial city of Pittsburgh. The quarterback for the Steelers has far too many letters in his last name and Troy Polamalu really needs to cut that silly, mangy warrior hairstyle that he so proudly sports. Santonio Holmes is slow and has poor hand eye coordination and Hines Ward has laughable skills at best. Bryan McFadden can only be described as asinine and James Harrison is a witless mongoloid.
Now if you want to hear about some true American heros, let's examine the Arizona Cardinals. Kurt Warner is the epitome of an American Hero. He is more grizzled and experienced than a firefighter with the strength of two Peyton Mannings. I once read that Warner hit himself in his own dick with a hammer on purpose. Now THAT, ladies and gentleman, takes true courage and American spirit. Take Larry Fitzgerald; faster than a cheetah but with the grace and style of a panther. Is there a more pefect name is all of sports than Anquan Boldin? I get chills just thinking about it. Anquan. Boldin. BOLDin. Here's another American hero for you: Edgerrin James. Need I go on? Let's recap, Arizona Cardinals: most perfect team in all of sports. Pittsburgh Steelers: clearly lacking in skills and prolificness.

Now I have made it a central theme to talking about American freedom on my greatest of blogs. There is no reason to make an exception when talking about the SuperBowl and the referees. We are living in a land where freedom is king of course. The referees are entitled to make their calls as they see fit and keep the game of football organized and fair. However, it seems to be a problem, perhaps even unconstitutional, when the referees knowingly and purposely make blatant horrible one-sided calls. I felt as if the Cardinals were being discriminated against in the most holy arena in all of sports. It was a travesty that the referees threw flags at nearly every opportunity that by my calculations were clearly benefiting the Steelers and punishing the Cardinals for no reason. I have started a draft to the Commissioner of American Football describing my distaste and anger and outlining a set of policies that should be enacted to keep the game fair as well as a list of people who should be fired for botching up too many calls in Super Bowl 43.
It was a shameful that the Cardinals lost, but I do not feel any more anger. What is done is done, except for that which is done and can be changed. There is no reason that Super Bowl 43 should not be played again under more fair conditions, perhaps in the state of Arizona where the weather is more suitable to the game and the fans aren't a bunch of rabid, foaming pathetic Pittsburgh, unPatriotic third generation immigrants.

My food was hot and delicious, and quite honestly, very distracting. I tried to focus as much energy as I could on the game, but who can when I had deep fried mushrooms, pizzas, FREE-TOH pies, various PIES and cheesesteak strombolis? I consumed enough sodium that day to kill a sheep.