You ever have one of those days?
You know what day I’m talking about:
You set your alarm for p.m., not a.m., and oversleep.
Your car is frozen and won’t start in this snowy abyss known as Wisconsin.
You forget you had a paper due in poli-sci, your lunch tastes like chipmunk entrails and your roommate talks your ear off about this new girl with whom he has no shot.
Finally, you settle in for a movie on TNT to end your horrific day, only to fall asleep just before Andy Dufresne escapes from Shawshank. (This has happened to me on multiple occasions, and my alarm clock always sounds like cell doors locking shut the next morning.)
Well, thanks to Jenny-freaking-Craig, I am living my own personal “one of those days.” Only problem is, that day is slowly becoming my life.
All of this is because the weight-loss guru had the audacity to hire Jason Alexander as her newest spokesperson.
No, not the Jason Alexander that Britney married in Vegas (thank goodness I let Brit’s call go to voicemail when she called me to go party with her that weekend).
I’m talking about the Jason Alexander who is the king of making me feel better about myself every time I flip on a “Seinfeld” rerun.
I wish Alexander’s portrayal of George Costanza was actually a real person because I’d have a new best friend.
Think about it: If I am walking down the street next to an overweight, short, bald guy with glasses, who is getting more ladies checking him out, me or an unlovable loser?
(Okay, probably neither of us is getting a phone number, but I know I’m closer to punching in a new contact in my cell than the self-loathing guy in the J.Crew jacket is.)
Nothing boosts my disposition more than seeing someone I know lose a job for having sex with the cleaning woman at work, throw his back out and spend his entire summer rehabbing indoors or getting his record score in Frogger erased when the machine is obliterated into shards by a Mack truck.
I’m not sick in the head. I feel bad for George. But my pity is only trumped by my relief that my life isn’t as bad as his.
So you can understand my anger when Jenny Craig and her loyal minion Valerie Bertinelli started filming commercials with Costanza, advertising how he was improving his life thanks to his new diet.
Yeah. Improving his life and destroying mine in the process.
Seriously, who signed off on letting the biggest loser in sitcom history turn his life around? I certainly didn’t.
Where does this guy get off? He went from being tied up to a hotel bed while a sexy thief took his clothes and wallet to losing five pounds by eating tasteless “food.” I certainly don’t remember rubber stamping my approval on that memo.
Could there be a woman involved?
After all, we know Costanza converted religions to Latvian Orthodox to secure the heart of a member of the fairer sex.
So what health-conscious Eastern European babe is GLC trying to wow now? Someone who is trying to convince him to try healthy Latvian foods like grey peas or borscht?
Whether it’s vixens of Latvian descent like LPGA golfer Natalie Gulbis or actress Debi Mazar (neither of whom is worth giving up beer and pizza for. Trust me, I know), we can’t rule out the possibility of the wiles of a Latvian harlot. But I’m getting away from my point.
Just who did promote George Costanza: “Lord of the Idiots” to George Costanza: “Lord of the Salads and Loose-Fitting Pants?”
I understand it’s only his weight that’s changing. But George is slowly going from a bald, stocky, unemployed loser who lives with his parents to a bald, less-stocky, unemployed loser who lives with his parents.
Folks, that just doesn’t fly in my universe, and it’s time to stop the insanity. (Take that Susan Powter reference, Jenny Craig.)
So how do you support the cause? The same way us college kids support any cause in 2010: By joining the Facebook group. (And there is one. Look it up. I’ll wait.)
The “Get Costanza off Jenny Craig” Facebook page is going viral, people. We need to get this situation fixed ASAP.
I just cannot deal with a skinny Costanza. What’s next? A svelte 170-pound George accepting a Best Actor Oscar for his performance opposite Kate Winslet in a Sam Raimi flick?
A muscular Costanza and his washboard abs gracing the cover of Men’s Health?
I swear, if I see a shirtless Costanza modeling jeans the next time I walk by Abercrombie, I will lose it.
And we are in serious trouble if People’s Sexiest Man of the Year is a short, middle-aged man who likes to masquerade as an architect and drape himself in velvet from head to toe.
You know how Jenny Craig is always asking people to call her if they have a problem with themselves?
Well I have a problem, Jenny. Nobody called me on this one, so I am just going to have to go ahead and veto it.
Costanza shouldn’t be throwing out his excess fat in a Jenny Craig commercial. Instead he should continue to be thrown out of the Soup Nazi’s restaurant.
A world without a pudgy George Costanza is a world I don’t want to live in.
Folks, as our good friend George once so eloquently put it; it’s time to “switch into panic mode.”
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