My Biggest Loser Conspiracy Theory

Okay, so I didn’t work out last night.  Which makes this day 3 of the blog, and day ZERO of working out.  Yes, yes, I know, the terrorists are winning.  However, I actually do have a good excuse (this time)--I was at work until 10pm last night, and the gym was the last place you were going to find me after a day like that.

Instead I went directly home and watched The Biggest Loser Finale.  While shoving food in my mouth the entire time.  That’s how I like to watch that show--full of guilt, self-hatred and fried chicken.  Okay, so I didn’t eat fried chicken, but I felt just as guilty.

But this post isn’t really about that, this is about The Biggest Loser and my Biggest Loser Conspiracy Theory.

There is something dark happening over there in the world of BL, something very very dark.  It is quite obvious that the producers have only two criteria when choosing the contestants, which results in breaking down the audience into heart-wrenching sobs EVERY SINGLE EPISODE:

1.     You have to have a really HOT skinny face.  I don’t know how they know this ahead of time, I can only assume they have some magical wizard person who can see the future on their pay-roll.

How else would they know THIS GUY:  

Would turn into this guy—I mean, look at those dimples!

2.     Also, you have to have a serious sob story and be able to cry on cue.  

But I’m on to you BL, no more tears from me, NO MORE.  Instead, I am turning you into a drinking game.  Every time someone cries, I will take a swig of beer.  I am only mildly concerned that I’ll slip into an alcohol induced coma, but at least I’d prove my point.