Well, it's a Saturday morning, did you expect anything else from me after I've just crawled out of bed?

- One of my co-workers puts together an encyclopedia of songs catalogued by lyrical content -- meaning that if the lyrics talk about a particular subject, he'll catalogue the song by that subject. He's about to release the fifth edition. I took a look at a copy yesterday and was simply amazed at the wealth of the information that's in there. I mean, the book is HUGE. We're talking put three copies of War and Peace together and it might be as big as this book. The amount of work that must've gone in there is insane. And there literally is a listing for any topic you could possibly think of. On a whim, I counted the number of pages that contain listings for songs about sex -- 10 pages. I didn't bother counting the pages containing songs about love or angst.

- Candi posted a link to this article on the insane caloric and fat value of pizza. See, I really didn't want to read it, but I had to. Pizza is one of my absolute favorite foods, but it's one of those situations where if you don't think about it and don't know the particulars, you can still enjoy it and put it away. I mean, pizza boxes don't come with a nutritional label on them. But seeing this makes me think it'll be a while before I have pizza again. Thankfully, I seem to be in a sushi phase at the moment, and that's relatively good for me. I can't believe how many food commercials are on TV, though. It's like every single commercial break has at least one if not more commercials for some kind of fast food chain or some grocery item. We're being bombarded with all this in addition to the fact that there's a Dunkin' Donuts or Krispy Kreme on every corner opposite a McDonald's or Burger King or Carl's Jr., and the surgeon general wonders why we're tubby? It's almost impossible to escape.

When I was in college, I had a friend who was rail-thin. Literally. To the point of boniness. You should see each of his ribs, and he frequently walked around the suite without his shirt on despite our protestations, so I did see his ribs. It's not that he wasn't eating well enough. He ate everything under the sun, and everything that was horrible for him. At least four times a week, he'd have cheeseburgers. Pizza, Mexican food, Chicken McNuggets -- anything that was bad for him, he put it away. And it's not like he took two bites and was done with it. This guy was the kind of person who would go into a fast food place like Taco Bell, order $15 worth of food and eat it in one sitting. And he never exercised either. He made me so damn frustrated that he was blessed with such an incredible metabolism, and by nature, if I had even $3 worth of Taco Bell, I could see my gut get bigger because of it the next day.

The only saving grace was that he was so thin-framed that he couldn't build up any muscles. He tried -- he asked me to take him with me when I went to work out, and we went together for over a month, but he never built up any muscles. It's the only aspect that I had him beat.