Sloth, Indulgence, and Questionable Choices: A Lifestyle Guide

There are people who are healthy. They live clean lives, make responsible choices, keep their bodies trim, and treat them like temples. These people are driven. They care about themselves, their families, and their future. They want to be their best, live long, and thrive.

Personal health is big business. In 2024, the U.S. Health and Wellness market was estimated to hit $1.356 trillion. That’s a lot of loot. People buy vitamins, exercise mats, fat-reduction drugs, workout clothes, and yoga pants—pants that, fun fact, can be used for more than just yoga. Who knew? Group shrug.

Then there are the influencers—the YouTubers, the Instagram-famous, the fitness gurus—endlessly telling you how to get healthy, feel better, be your best self, and live forever. This is a booming industry, and the people behind it truly want you to live better lives… and also make themselves rich as Croesus.

For those unfamiliar with historical references casually thrown around by people who have no idea what they mean, Croesus was the last king of Lydia (modern-day Turkey), famous for his obscene wealth, military conquests, and cultural influence. His name became shorthand for “rolling in money,” and his story is preserved by historians like Herodotus. There. Now you know.

All this obsession with health and well-being is great, I guess. But, as Newton reminds us, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is more than just physics—it’s a universal balancing act. And if you’ve read my work before, you know I am nothing if not devoted to universal balance. In fact, in high school, I was voted most likely to balance the universe. I was also voted most likely to be mistaken for a container of cottage cheese (large curd) and have someone try to mix a can of cling peaches into me.

A shocking prediction that became even more shocking when, outside a Safeway one day, an old woman approached me with a can of cling peaches and a spoon and tried to have me for lunch.

What’s my point? you’re probably asking yourself. Well, here it is: For every overpriced protein shake, there must be an equal and opposite gas station burrito. For every high-performance treadmill, there must be a well-loved couch. And for all the kale smoothies, there must be a deep-fried something on a stick.

I am here for you, the people who do not care about eHealth, who reject “clean eating,” and who wear yoga pants for the God-intended purpose of sitting on the couch watching TV. I will be your equal and opposite reaction to the health craze. I will teach you how to live the completely unhealthy life of a starving artist.

Morning: The Meal of Champions

They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. First off, who are they, and why do they keep making life harder? Second, yes, breakfast is important, but they ruin it with grains, greens, and—dear God—flaxseed.

Breakfast should have breakfast meats. Sausage, bacon, ham—alone or together, doesn’t matter. These are the building blocks of a good (as in delicious, not “good for you”) breakfast.

Also, let’s talk about activity. Not jogging while eating a banana—real, digestive activity. If you ended your night with pizza and chicken wings, you might be experiencing what I call Prometheus Syndrome. That’s when you eat an ungodly amount of dairy and feel like you’ve been eternally bound to a rock by the gods themselves.

Now, you could eat whole grains, prunes, and other so-called remedies. Or you could have the true breakfast of champions: hot black coffee and an unfiltered cigarette. That’s a combination that gets everything moving. Like the last day of college, everything must be packed up and evacuated. Of course, if you’re a Kurt Vonnegut fan, then you know the REAL breakfast of champions is a vodka martini. We’ll get to drinking in a bit.

Once that’s handled, now you can add the good stuff—breakfast meats, breakfast burritos, breakfast cheeseburgers, cold pizza, or, oh yes, the true MVP: cold Chinese food. You’re clean, clear, and ready to fill up with a proper meal.

Lunch: A Commitment to Poor Decisions

Lunch is supposed to be a simple, satisfying pause in the middle of the day, a chance to refuel before tackling whatever nonsense the afternoon holds. But no, the health industry has decided to ruin it, turning it into a "macro-balanced midday optimization session" on vegan gluten-free fair trade, no one was killed making this sandwich, bread.

Salads. Smoothies. Grain bowls. Protein-packed quinoa sludge. These are the offerings of people who have never truly enjoyed lunch. Meanwhile, the real ones know that lunch is supposed to be hot, greasy, and slightly regrettable.

For those of us living the unhealthy lifestyle, lunch is the meal where we fully embrace our worst decisions. Breakfast may still have a shred of self-respect, but lunch? Lunch is lawless. Lunch is when we ask ourselves, "Do I want an actual meal, or do I just want a collection of snack foods that make my coworkers question my life choices?" Even better, do I take this large variety of snack foods, slap them between two hunk of white bread, and dowse the entire cacophony to poor health with mayo?

I’m game; don’t test me.

A proper unhealthy lunch is built on three key pillars:

1. Grease. If you can eat it without leaving a translucent stain on a napkin, does it even count?
2. Questionable nutritional value. A meal should be at least 50% regret and 50% joy.
3. Portions that make you reconsider your entire afternoon. If you're still capable of being productive after lunch, you didn't do it right.

Now, there are many lunch options available to the unhealthy connoisseur. Here are a few classics:

• The Leftover Feast. Cold pizza, congealed pasta, or the last sad bits of takeout that have been sitting in your fridge long enough to make you reconsider your life choices. Bonus points if the container is unmarked and you aren't entirely sure when you got it.
• The Gas Station Gamble. Two-day-old hot dogs? Mystery egg salad sandwich? The rotating roller grill items that may or may not be from another dimension. Roll the dice and let fate decide.
• The Deep-Fried Delight. Anything that has been submerged in hot oil until it no longer resembles food. Fried chicken, mozzarella sticks, and onion rings. If it crunches, it counts.
• The Snack-Based Lunch. A collection of completely unrelated items—maybe a bag of chips, a candy bar, and an energy drink. Congratulations, you've built a meal entirely out of impulse purchases.

For the truly dedicated, there's always the nap-inducing lunch. This is the kind of meal that leaves you unable to function for the rest of the day. A burger so big it requires OSHA to okay the structural support, a burrito the size of a newborn, or a pasta dish so heavy it could have it’s own TBS show.

And that, my friends, is how lunch should be. Not optimized, not macro-balanced, just deliciously irresponsible.

Afternoon Sloth: The Siren Call of the Couch

Some people skip lunch in favor of a jog or an aggressive gym session. These are the people who claim exercise gives them energy—the ones who emerge from a punishing workout, sweat-drenched but grinning, ready to tackle the rest of their day with some kind of unnatural enthusiasm.

And yet, these same people will, by mid-afternoon, crash harder than a toddler who skipped naptime. Their bodies, having been deprived of a proper lunch and subjected to voluntary suffering, will demand repayment. And so, at three o’clock, they will be found slumped over their desks, eyes glazed, productivity at absolute zero.

Meanwhile, those of us who embraced the true midday path—the gas station burrito, the nap-inducing pasta, the deep-fried delight—are already at peace with our fate. We did not fight against nature. We did not struggle to maintain energy levels we were never meant to have. No, we accepted the inevitable.

Afternoon sloth is not just a consequence. It is the reward.

Here’s how to do it right:

• Choose your nest. Your desk, your couch, a conveniently located armchair—anywhere you can settle in and let inertia take over. Bonus points if it has a slight recline.
• Master the thousand-yard stare. This is the look of someone who is technically awake but has fully checked out. Practice gazing into the middle distance, contemplating nothing.
• Perfect the art of minimal movement. If someone calls your name, respond only with a slow blink. If forced to acknowledge another person’s existence, exhale audibly before answering.
• Strategic snacking. You are not hungry, but eating gives the illusion of productivity. Find something crunchy to keep your hands busy while your brain remains offline.

Afternoon sloth is the balance to the chaos of the world. While others fight against exhaustion, we lean in. We let the weight of our indulgent lunch settle over us like a warm, greasy blanket. We are at peace.

And that is why, my friends, afternoon sloth is not just the best option—it is the only option.

The Anti-Wellness Workout: Fitness, But Worse

The fitness industry wants you to believe that exercise is the key to a long, fulfilling life. They promise toned muscles, boundless energy, and the smug satisfaction of posting gym selfies with captions like "Rise and grind!"

But let’s be honest. Exercise is just voluntary suffering. The human body was not designed to run on treadmills, lift heavy objects for no reason, or do yoga poses named after unhappy animals. Our ancestors didn’t have gym memberships—they just ran when something was chasing them.

And so, in the spirit of balance, I present the Anti-Wellness Workout. A routine that respects your body’s natural state: mildly comfortable at all times.

The Warm-Up: Avoidance Stretches

Every great workout starts with a warm-up, and ours is no different. Begin by stretching your excuses. Say things like:

• "I don’t want to overdo it today."
• "Isn’t walking to the fridge technically cardio?"
• "I’ll start tomorrow."
• "Wait, does chewing count as a jaw workout?"

Repeat until you feel sufficiently relaxed.

Strength Training: The Grocery Bag Deadlift

No gym? No problem. Grab as many grocery bags as possible in a single trip from the car to the house. Struggle, grunt, and possibly cut off circulation to your fingers. This is functional fitness at its finest—just like weightlifting, but with the added reward of not making two trips, and frozen burritos as a reward!

Core Workout: The Couch Crunch

Lie on the couch. Slowly lean forward to grab the remote or a snack. Lean back. Congratulations, you have engaged your core. Do not repeat. Ever!

Cardio: Panic-Based Sprints

Traditional cardio is boring. But panic-based cardio? That’s adrenaline-fueled efficiency. Examples include:

• Running to catch the food delivery before they ring the doorbell and alert your dog.
• Sprinting for your phone when you realize you left it in another room.
• The lightning-fast full-body workout that occurs when a spider lands on you.

Flexibility: The Floor Reach

At some point, something will fall on the floor. You now have three choices:

• Attempt to pick it up.
• Stare at it for a long time, contemplating whether you really need it.
• Get on Amazon and order another one.

All three are valid forms of exercise.

Cooldown: The Extended Sit

Every good workout ends with a cooldown. For the Anti-Wellness Workout, the cooldown is the most important part. Sit down. Breathe deeply. Let the exhaustion of existing wash over you. If possible, nap.

And there you have it—the only fitness routine designed to work with your body’s true potential: minimal effort, maximum comfort.

Drinking: A Toast to Poor Decisions

For centuries, drinking has been a cornerstone of human civilization. The ancient Greeks had wine gods, medieval monks brewed beer, and modern influencers pretend they enjoy mocktails. Drinking has shaped culture, history, and many a regrettable text message.

But now, the wellness industry wants to ruin it. Low-carb beer. Sugar-free cocktails. Non-alcoholic spirits that taste like someone whispered "gin" over a glass of seltzer. These people have taken one of life’s great pleasures and turned it into a hydration strategy.

This is unacceptable. Drinking should be fun, irresponsible, and slightly regrettable. If you're going to do it, do it wrong.

The Proper Way to Drink Unhealthily

1. Carbs are your friend. Low-carb beer is a lie. A good drink should have enough carbs to make marathon runners weep. If your beer is described as "crisp" or "light," you’re doing it wrong. Seek out the brews that are described as "liquid bread."
2. Mocktails are not real. They are lies disguised as joy. If you want something fruity and alcohol-free, have a juice box, like an honest person.
3. The well-liquor philosophy. When in doubt, order the well drink. It's cheaper, more mysterious, and builds character. Will you regret it? Probably. Will it be memorable? Absolutely.
4. Frozen drinks: nature’s lazy masterpiece. Any drink that requires a blender is a drink that respects the art of excess. A piña colada is not just a cocktail; it’s a statement that you have fully committed to leisure.
5. Garnishes are just alcohol’s way of dressing up. The celery in a Bloody Mary? That’s a start. The orange in your old-fashioned? Breakfast. The umbrella? Proof that drinking should be fun. Also, with enough celery and add-ons, you could actually fool yourself into thinking your cocktail is a salad.

The Ideal Drinking Scenarios

• The solo celebration. You accomplished something today. What? Doesn’t matter. Pour a drink.
• The group spiral. No one intended to stay out this late, and yet, here you are. This is the magic of alcohol.
• The questionable pairing. Wine with fast food? Champagne with pizza? Beer with pancakes? The only rule is that there are no rules.
• The “one more” lie. It is never just one more. We all know this. And yet, we say it every time.

The Aftermath: Accepting the Consequences

Drinking, when done right, comes with consequences. Some may call them hangovers, but we prefer to think of them as reminders of a night well spent. The key to handling them is to accept your fate with dignity.

1. Breakfast should be greasy, preferably something that requires a fork and a napkin before you even start eating. Bonus points if it comes in a paper bag and you don’t fully remember ordering it.
2. Hydration is important, but let’s not go overboard. A sports drink, a cup of coffee, and the smallest possible amount of water needed to feel human again should be enough. If you drink too much water, your body might think you’re trying to change. We can’t have that.
3. Movement should be minimal. If possible, remain in a supine position until the worst of it passes. If you must get up, do so with slow, deliberate movements as if you are a Victorian ghost haunting your own apartment.
4. Reflection is unnecessary. Do not waste time asking yourself if last night’s choices were good ones. They were. Always.
5. Sound must be managed carefully. The only acceptable volume level for anything is "barely audible." This applies to TV, music, conversations, and the judgmental thoughts in your own head.
6. Accept that today is not for achievement. Productivity is a myth perpetuated by people who have never truly committed to bad decisions. If the most you accomplish is moving from the bed to the couch, you are already ahead of schedule.

And that is how drinking should be done. Not carefully, not wisely, but with full commitment to indulgence and immediate regret.

Summing Up: A Life Well Wasted

The world will tell you that health is the path to happiness. That balance means discipline. That success is waking up early, eating clean, working out, and optimizing every moment of your existence.

But we know better.

We know that the true balance of the universe requires an equal and opposite reaction. For every fitness guru, there must be someone eating cold pizza for breakfast. For every overpriced smoothie, there must be a gas station burrito. For every relentless pursuit of productivity, there must be an afternoon spent supine, contemplating nothing.

We have embraced the sloth. We have rejected the grind. We have committed to a lifestyle that demands nothing but comfort, indulgence, and the occasional regret-fueled existential crisis.

And in doing so, we have found freedom.

So the next time someone tries to sell you a life of discipline and restriction, simply lean back, take a deep breath, and ask yourself: Wouldn’t a nap be better?

The answer, of course, is always yes.