Fridge or Gym Its Never Been a Tougher Love Triangle

Dear Uncle Bobby, I feel like I’m trapped in a love triangle between my fridge and my gym membership. Every time I promise myself I’ll go to the gym, my fridge starts whispering sweet nothings about leftover pizza. How do I balance eating habits with working out?

Hungry Harry

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Oh Harry, bless your calorie-counting little heart. You’re not in a love triangle, son — you’re in an abusive relationship with your fridge, and the gym is just the side piece you only call when you’re feeling guilty.

Here’s the problem: the fridge is always there for you. It doesn’t judge. It doesn’t shame. It’s just sitting there humming softly like Barry White, waiting to seduce you with last night’s wings and questionable potato salad. The gym? That’s a toxic fling. It demands your time, your sweat, and your dignity while blasting Pitbull remixes. One gives you comfort. The other gives you shin splints.

My advice? Go all in on the fridge. Embrace it. Lean into the carbs like a long-lost lover. Why chase six-pack abs when you can have a six-pack of beer and a belly that doubles as a built-in snack shelf? Fitness influencers will tell you “abs are made in the kitchen.” They just forgot to mention it’s the part of the kitchen where the pizza lives.

Sure, you could try balance, moderation, portion control. But balance is boring. Moderation is a scam. Go full fridge. Cancel the gym membership. Use the money to upgrade your condiment game. And when someone asks about your health goals, just tell them you’re “bulking.” That word forgives everything.

Because at the end of the day, Harry, the treadmill won’t love you back. But that leftover cheesecake? That’s eternal.

– Uncle Bobby