Damon Harris (hombre) wrote,
Damon Harris
hombre

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The 20-year speedbump

I remember a mythical time of yore when I could eat anything and get away with it. You see, my body was an entirely different creature back during my youthful days of ignorance and bliss, a wonderful machine which possessed the power to transform blatantly unhealthy objects like Kool Aid and chocolate-dipped GI Joes into vital chemicals that my system needed, such as energy, and protein. I would spend hours in my room, with Mario, Luigi, and the gang, while inhaling bags of Cheetos and raw corn starch by the metric ton. Anything containing at least 100% unrefined or 100% refined sugar was an excellent culinary target, as you can plainly see in this diagram of my three basic food groups:

FOOD GROUP #1: The Sticks Group - Includes Pixie Sticks, cheese sticks, cotton candy, beef jerky, ham turkey, lard jerky, nacho cheese bacon salsa jerky, custard-filled glazed donuts that have had a stick jammed into them.
FOOD GROUP #2: The Deep Fried Group - McDonalds, Wendys, Taco Time, Pizza Hut (I would buy pizzas and bring them over to McDonalds where they agreed to deep fry them for me in exchange for promising to never ever ever sue them).
FOOD GROUP #3: The Fruits Group - Watermelon Hubba Bubba, cherry Slushies, grape Nerds, strawberry Fun-Dip (which could also be classified under the "Sticks" group due to the fact that each pouch came with one of those thick white sticks composed entirely of sugar and various interdimensional substances).

I never gain a single pound and usually remain underweight despite my seemingly intentional efforts to make my body die a slow and doughy death. My parents would say utterly insane things like "stop drinking so much pop!" and "eat your vegetables! You need some vitamin N in your diet or else you'll grow up and have ungodly teeth like Gary Busey!" Of course I never listened to them, usually because I was too busy trying to finish whatever Final Fantasy game I was playing at the time. I was under the impression that things such as "vitamins" and "foods which weren't composed of 98% congealed lard" were myths like dry land and would do absolutely nothing for my health and general well being.

Then I turned 24.

Although that day was nearly a year ago, I still recall the harrowing moment when I hit that 20 Year Speedbump and discovered my body's digestive system could not act like Superman, unless of course we're referring to the Superman who was nearly killed by a horse. I was sitting around in a darkened room, engaging in an intense political debate with "aNiMeFaN-7283," on one of the too many online communities I have accounts on, when my gut began to suddenly clench and produce a series of comical noises resembling an otter caught in a Volkswagen's fan belt. Despite the fact that I had recently gorged myself on a monumental buffet of Domino's Pizza, I could brainstorm no logical reason as to why my stomach suddenly turned on me.

"That's odd," I thought. "My stomach doesn't normally produce such violent noises unless I'm trying to digest entire bicycle parts." I promptly forgot about the incident and went back to typing "LOL" as fast as I could.

Eventually it dawned on me that perhaps, just perhaps, my numerous ill effects were not directly caused by third party sources such as the phase of the moon, but rather due to something more personal: my diet. If you take away anything from my journal, and I am fairly certain that you will not, I would like you younger assholes to realize that you will all eventually hit a pothole during your body aging process, a catastrophic event which will turn your entire world upside down and topsy turvey and catercorner and helter skelter and snuffleupagus. You know all that stupid crap your parents used to endlessly babble about the importance of eating vitamins and objects that were not 98% man-made chemicals? Well it all eventually starts to come true like a darkened bloody prophecy in your mid-20s.

Fourunately, it appears that I still have the remnants of the seemingly mysterious alien-power metabolism which allows me to digest items like ranch filled cheddar bacon puffs, and convert them into nutrients my body needs. However, it's becoming ever-so apparent that this power will eventually dwindle and become the hollow memory of man who spends his spare time engaging in lengthy pantless conversations with his pets about why there should be a sequel to River City Ransom. As such, I'm thankful that my health and eating habbits aren't as bad as I'm making them out to be, and that it gives me much needed motivation to make sure I get off my lazy ass and go to the gym.

So what changes does the average fleshy human shell experience after plowing over the 20 Year Speedbump? Here is a brief list of items that I could recall offhand, although you'll have to bear with me because my memory isn't quite as good as it used to be and I have a tendency to either repeat things or forget them completely.

SYMPTOMS OF THE 20 YEAR SPEEDBUMP:

SYMPTOM #1: Your memory isn't quite as good as it used to be and you either repeat things or forget them completely.
SYMPTOM #2: You realize that you're suddenly required to work out and maintain your work out routine, and failure to do so results in your body slowly metamorphisizing into an uncanny replica of the Golden Buddha's unemployed brother, "Fat Eddie."
SYMPTOM #3: Your stomach begins generating copious amounts of acid like the nefarious predators from the movie "Aliens." Drinking a glass of orange juice will bestow upon you the ability to spew a stream of liquid powerful enough to vaporize entire living room sets.
SYMPTOM #4: If you don't consume at least nine pounds of fresh vegetables and vitamins every day, your body will refuse to produce any energy and you will have to be lifted from your bed by a complex series of pulleys and levers attached to a cargo helicopter.
SYMPTOM #5: You notice that a majority of your conversations revolve around the weather.
SYMPTOM #6: When shopping, you often turn products over so you can analyze their nutritional label. Additionally, you fail to snicker if you see that there's 69% of a particular ingredient.
SYMPTOM #7: Your memory isn't quite as good as it used to be and you either repeat things or forget them completely.
SYMPTOM #8: You begin to complain about how old you're becoming on your blog.

I just want all you whipper-snappers out there to know I was once like you. I could eat tons of junk food, never exercise, and somehow get away with it. I naively assumed my body would be able to keep up its seemingly insatiable fat-burning engine which required absolutely no maintenance on my part. My body was a GIPO machine, a Garbage In, Poop Out system which allowed the bad things I routinely crammed down my gaping maw to effortlessly slide out of my rectum like a small Crisco-covered Jewish man gliding over a Slip N' Slide. Once I hit the 20 Year Speedbump (which can occur at any age from 20 to 29), everything changed and my GIPO system was transformed into a GISF computer, allowing garbage to come in but then deciding to save the fat and hold onto it as if it were a precious jewel sought after by bloodthirsty Nazi mummy Frankensteins.

So in the interest of providing the best life possible for youth all across the world, please take my advice: LIVE THE ABSOLUTE MOST UNHEALTHIEST LIFE POSSIBLE WHILE YOUR BODY CAN STILL SUPPORT IT. Dine at Kentucky Fried Chicken every day, demanding they use your french fries as sponges to absorb excess spilled grease across their countertops. Chain smoke so many cigarettes that Hunter S. Thompson spins in his grave. Break into your parents' liquor cabinet and chug whiskey until they come home and discover you're on the verge of dying from alcohol poisoning. Refuse to exercise on the grounds that it violates your ethical religious beliefs. Also be sure to watch a lot of pornography. This won't really affect your digestive system that much, but hey, you'll probably have fun doing it. Your body will heal itself and continue to run in top shape until you hit the dreaded 20 Year Speedbump. These are the best years of your life; why not fill them with the worst things of your life?

---Damon
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