And Today's Winner of the "Victor's Sells Out Spirit Award" is...

...Donna Simpson, hopefully the next world's fattest woman. Sure the idea of rigorously attempting to become the grotesque living embodiment of gluttony and excess by consuming as many calories as possible while inversely limiting your movements down to the mere act of shoving more food down your gullet may seem unspeakably appalling. Perhaps it may be seen as an unconscionably obscene affront to all the millions upon millions of people going hungry around the world, and does nothing to shake off the ugly global perception that Americans wallow in fat, lazy, decadence let alone speak well of the kind of people that come from New Jersey. You may view the fact we as a society are not only allowing this occur, but are actually facilitating it by paying her through the internet; and thus should be considered silent but willing accomplices in her self inflicted death should her heart eventually explode in a supernova of cheese and butter.

All these would be valid initial reactions to reading the story, but after thinking about it for a second I'm starting I see the odd logic behind it all. As a morbidly obese, immobile, 600 lb woman you're just a fat person. As a morbidly obese, immobile, 1000+ lb woman, you are a world champion! After you reach a certain degree of bigness, really everything else is just (literally and figuratively) gravy. If you're going to be a lardo, why not be the biggest lardo. There's no denying that she's going to have a whole lot more fun gaining 400 lbs than losing 400 lbs and it's not like anyone's going to pay to see her eat right and exercise. If I were in her strained, gigantic shoes, I would do the same thing. So despite what doctors and other naysayers may say, you just keep on packing on those pounds Donna Simpson and to quote the inspirational words of the late Jim Valvano (replacing the struggle to survive a terminal illness with the struggle to eat more) "Don't give up, don't ever give up."

When You're Here You're Competition!

The weather's getting cooler, the kids are dejectedly headed back to school, the networks are proudly rolling out their finest new programming, and massive hurricanes are ravaging the Gulf Coast. It must be Fall!

If it weren't for the whole "going back to school" deal breaker, Fall would be by far my favorite season. With the lowering temperatures, I can finally start enjoying the benefits of jacket weather. I get the spiteful enjoyment of seeing many of the allergenic plants that gave me so much grief over the spring and summer slowly (and colorfully) die off. You get longer nights, the baseball playoffs, and the start of football Sundays. TV becomes more interesting again and they start rolling out the Oscar favorites in theaters. It also has two of my favorite Holidays: wicked and decadent Halloween and its uptight, straight edge, brother Election Day.

Aside from all the real obvious merits of Fall, a personal positive that always rings in the season for me is the return of Olive Garden's Never-Ending Pasta Bowl. Every year around late August to early September the OG rolls out its usual series of ads involving some clueless douche getting overwhelmed by all the various combinations of never ending pastas and sauces and the change in seasons becomes official. As a life long amateur practitioner of gluttony I can't help but admire the dedication of Olive Garden in issuing this bold challenge to the hungry, theme restaurant eating American public year in and year out. You never see TGI Fridays or Red Lobster or Chili's throwing down such a gastronomical gauntlet on the public. This year's running of the bowls is even more impressive considering the record increase in the price of wheat (and food in general) worldwide.

Although the NEPB is a time of joy and celebration, most years my enjoyment of the promotion is unfortunately curtailed. There's always the conundrum of finding a party to go with me. Unlike movies, I have yet to reconcile solo trips to sit down restaurants. A single meal by oneself is uncomfortable enough, but attempting to eat a double digit number of pasta dishes one after the other alone at a table like Mr. Creosote enters into a disturbing new level of sadness. Past experience has also taught me that bringing a date along is almost as unattractive a proposition, unless you can find someone that is willing to awkwardly sit and watch you try to stuff another plate of linguine down or is willing to go on a date to the Olive Garden in general. Really the true way to experience the Never Ending Pasta Bowl is to enter with like minded challengers. Bringing in a fellow competitor or a group of competitors eliminates the stigma of being the only gorger in the room, keeps the servers alert and busy, and, in the end, everyone pushes each other to achieve their personal best. Also, you never know if your competitive bowl stacking showdown will attract a random crowd of rowdy, gambling supporters a la "Over the Top".

So let this be my declared challenge to the world at large. During the month or so left of this promotion, I, Victor Lee, will accept any challenge from any man, woman, or carbo-loading Olympic champion to go bowl for bowl at any participating Olive Garden Restaurant. We'll pick a date, get a table, and trade dish after dish until one side capitulates. Any combination of sauce and pasta is open and there'll be unlimited salad and bread sticks at the eater's risk. The winner will pick up the other's $8.95 tab along with drinks. If you can beat me I'll even pay for any incidental stomach pumping required. Warning to all, don't take me lightly just cause I'm a skinny Asian guy.

I'll see you at the faux-Tuscan themed dining hall!