I remain a fervent reader of This is Why You're Fat, because knowing things like the Rubix Cubewich and the Hurler Burger exist brings me a lot of culinary joy.

Last week, the Captain and I went for a very late breakfast at a local diner. Normally I'd go with one of my two staples - French toast or eggs - but a pretty picture on the menu jumped off the page.










That plate of wonderment is called the Readington Skillet - scrambled eggs, potatoes, onions, peppers and sausage, all covered in melted cheese. It was damned delicious. But it also looked like something that would be at home on the pages of This is Why You're Fat.

And questionable dietary decisions like that are why I continue to arise at 5:20 a.m. daily to go to boot camp. This is the third session I've attended and I'm still really enjoying it. What I'm not enjoying this time around is some of the new people in the class. Every session is a mix of veterans and newcomers. Two of the rookies in this class are the loud overly chatty types. The kind who run their mouth more than they actually run.

And one of them wears jean shorts. Every day. Huge jean shorts (as she is a relatively huge woman, starting with her mouth and most notably her ass). Perhaps jeans culottes would be a more apt description. They're really big. Anyway, I love jeans but I can't imagine anything less comfortable than exercising in denim. Can you imagine the thigh chafing? Egads. And we are talking about thighs the size of tree trunks.

Also, on an unrelated but extremely important note to the woman in her mid-40s I saw in the store earlier today, a quick PSA ... DO NOT WEAR WHITE LINEN PANTS AND RED GRANNY PANTIES. It does not look good.

Yes, my thoughts on this whole Favre situation are forthcoming. The whole mess is ridiculous. Not as absurd as the indignity of being a Mets fan these days, but silly nonetheless. I'm being heavily recruited to join Yankee supporters. While I would never make such a switch at this point in my lengthy history as a sports fan, this face is making a strong argument...

I was never a a regular listener of Mike and the Mad Dog and since their split, I have not listened to one single minute of the loud fat man. Similarly, as I am not a satellite radio subscriber, I don't listen to the Mad Dog often. But I did enjoy this:



Neil Diamond's "America" playing in the background as Russo offers his ranting mission statement is particularly enjoyable.

I got an e-mail from Bon Jovi the other day with the subject line: "Bon Jovi Online has NEW apparel, pet accessories and more!‏" No, I thought, they couldn't have sold out that much...

Oh yes they could:













Not to be outdone, the Jets sent an e-mail hawking their swimsuit sale:













Anyone who eats and drinks the way I do at tailgates is not in any shape to wear that thing...

The local newspaper continues to call every few days regarding my lapsed subscription and I ignore their calls 98 out of 100 times. But today, after nine long days in an overheated, buggy media center, combined with several days of 4:30 a.m. wake-up calls and 18-hour days dealing with incompetent, lazy media, I was in the proper frame of mind to answer their call.

"Hello?"

"Yes, how are you today, my dear?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Great. I see you used to subscribe to the Courier News. Was that a weekend subscription or every day?"

"It was daily."

"Any why did you stop, was it a vacation issue, or had you reached the end of a promotion?"

"No, it was a quality of the paper issue."

"Oh. Hmm. We've heard that a few times. Well, would you be interested in getting the paper again, either weekly or perhaps on the weekend?"

"Given how many of my friends lost their jobs last week, I'm going to have to say no."

"Ohhhhh. Oh. Um. Well, ok. Thank you."

Had I thought about it, I would have again mentioned my disgust for their ongoing practice of selling photographs of people's tragedy and hardship.

Fortunately, I'm sure they'll call again next week so I will have another opportunity.