Say hello to Poppin' Fresh

It's official folks...I'm fat. The NIH says my BMI of 26.6 means I'm overweight. It seems that years of sloth of gluttony have caught up with me. I used to be convinced that my Chinese peasant genes would protect me from the evils of inactivity and KFC Twoonie-Tuesdays. Alas, this is not so.

Anyways, I've done some reading to prepare for my 'War on Obesity' and I've come up with two preliminary battle plans to reduce my outrageously unhealthy BMI of 26.6 to a more accepatble 24.9 (which just so happens to be on the cusp of Normal). Here's what intel has dug up on BMI:

Name: BMI
Function: of mass over height
Our ally: height
Our enemy: mass

From basic algebra, we learned that to decrease the value of a fraction, we must increase the value of the denominator or height in this case. So plan A calls for me to grow an extra 2 inches. I think this can be easily achieved by means of a height increasing hairdo à la Kim Jong Il. I believe this plan will be sufficient for the success of my campaign. However, in the unlikely event that $5 of Alberto European Styling does not do the trick, I may have to resort to plan B, the reduction of mass. I've been reading up on a fast way of doing this, but it seems that the most effective ways such as induced vomiting and liposuction are either temporary solutions or prohibitively expensive. So here's what I'm going to do: I'll start with plan A while I investigate plan B a little further. Stay tuned for updates from the frontlines.


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