My Beef with Dr. Phil

As you may have heard/read/seen, television's Dr. Phil has began a One Man Assault against obesity by devising his very own weight loss regimen.

Good for him (and, seemingly, his groupie-esque over-sated lemmings).

I, for one, am pissed at his audacity.

He's bold enough to assume that America's corpulent porkulation will flock*
to his sage wisdom on how to shed pounds and get in shape...er...actually...they probably will.

In defiance to his program I am (boldly...or bodily) declaring myself the Anti-Phil; whereby I will give up myexercise routine and pack on the flab in protest to the good Doctor's bullshit recipe for the gravy-ridden masses (mashes?). There will be no double-scoop Ice Cream Cone that will go un-slurped nor any deep-fried item given the no-more-for-me wave off.

No.

I vow to gain as much weight as possible before the end of the year and then challenge the man to a Rock/Paper/Danish contest.

We'll see who here has the biggest Ladle.

Bastard.

T
(urp)

*mmm...mutton.