Off To Italy

I'll be going there (see map) for the next ten days. Eating their food. Drinking their drink. Dancing with their women. You know, the usual. Obviously I am looking forward to it. But that eight hour flight (plus an hour connecting flight) is just looming in the back of my mind. Haven't we perfected teleportation yet? This is 2010 for Christ's sake. Back in the 20th century, movies promised us that by at least the year 2000 we'd have hover cars, 2-second burritos, and the ability to teleport. But no, I'm going to have to check my bags, park myself in a tiny ass seat, and watch three C-rated films as I trudge over the Atlantic. I'm banking on falling asleep though, which will be difficult. Usually for me, in order to fall asleep, everything needs to be right. Pitch black, slightly cold, and a warm blanket draped over me. So passing out in an upright, hard-backed, germ-invested plane seat won't be easy. Maybe I'll get drunk. Yes, I'll get drunk.
See you in ten days. I'll be back with a THOROUGH pictorial spread complete with captions and what not. I'm going to document the shit out of this trip. It's going to be one for the ages.
KFC Double Down “Sandwich”

I love chicken. I love bacon. I love cheese. And I love sauce. But something is telling me I won't be ordering the "Double Down" from KFC anytime soon. Maybe it's my kidneys, or liver. Maybe it's my children from the future who know if I choke this thing down, they won't exist.
It seems fast food companies have officially said "F*** It" when it comes to nutrition. You would think the movie "Super Size Me" would have at least deterred them from making artery clogging food stuffs and lean just a tad towards health consciousness.
According to the KFC website, the "Double Down" has 540 calories 32 grams of fat and 1380 mg of sodium. It's made of two boneless white meat chicken filets, two pieces of bacon, two melted slices of Monterey Jack and pepper jack cheese with the Colonel's Sauce. I'm having chest pains just looking at it. But those nutritional facts are tame compared to Wendy's Baconator Triple which boasted 1330 calories, 38 grams of saturated fat (the bad kind), 345 mg of cholesterol, 3,150 mg of sodium, and 11 grams of sugar. So I should be ripping Wendy's.
But no, I'd rather rip KFC. Why? Because of their clear disregard for health. The lack of nutrition in the Wendy's Baconator Triple is merely a byproduct of the food made up of it. KFC on the other hand made a conscious decision to forgo "goodness". Who needs bread when you can use two fried filets of chicken? Why did they stop there? Dipping the whole thing in chocolate would have totally put a bow on it.
The "Double Down" even looks like a bad decision. I'm surprised you don't have to sign a waiver prior to ordering it.
Excess
I often do things in excess. Not bad things. Just things in general. Moderation is not in my vocabulary.
Take for instance, clothing. Being that I'm a guy, I really don't care for clothing in particular. On the rare occasions that I'm shopping for clothes, it's strictly out of necessity. I may need a dress shirt for an interview or I may need more boxer briefs because my others have *cough* disappeared. A majority of my day-to-day wear consists of old t-shirts from charity walks and my one pair of jeans. While at home, I wear one of my thousand pairs of basketball shorts and dress socks (because dress socks are always more comfortable than scratchy tube socks).
There are times however when there is a certain article of clothing that I love. It may be a gift, a cheap purchase, or a lucky find at the bottom of my dresser. About two weeks ago, I bought a cheap "Army Football" hooded sweatshirt because I felt I needed something for the upcoming winter.
I won't lie to you. It is the perfect sweatshirt. It's gray color matches perfectly with any type of pants or jeans. Like most hooded sweatshirts, it covers any torso imperfections the slightly out-of-shape 21-year old possesses. And the inner-lining is as soft as a polar bear baby's bottom. Every time I put it on, I feel like I'm wearing a pillow.
The preceding are the reasons why I have worn the "Army" sweatshirt for 11 of the past 14 days. Throwing that hoodie on before I head to school is so much easier than spending time debating what I'm going to wear (not that I do much debating otherwise). It's made ever so sweet by the fact that I commute to school and know little to no people in my classes. Therefore I don't have to worry about the thoughts of others. It's win-win! I get to feel comfortable, avoid decisions, and ignore the possible fashion discrimination from my fellow classmates.
I might just throw out the rest of my clothes.