what is this brown pudding of which you speak?
It might be.
I donāt know! Its like a sweetened, artificially colored brown oobleck. It isnāt real food and doesnāt fit into any groups.
It is good though. Half a bowl of that with a big dollop of ice cream in the middle is da bomb.
I think the moral of the story here is @EyeDentist is a master of shaming fat people at buffets.
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Iāve always wanted to approach an obese person who looked miserable and say āI can help you change your life.ā
Theyād respond with the expected āWhat are you talking about?ā
Iād tell them I was referring to the fact that theyāre obese and miserable and then things would go south. 
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Sounds like youāre already in the south in this scenarioā¦
Iām from NC - I can say it!
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More fair I think to say Iām a master at shaming rationalizing weightlifters at buffets.
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Certainly more fair to say, but not as amusing as the thought of you, shirtless and in your board shorts, contest ready with a spray tan, yelling at unsuspecting buffet-gorgers until some rotund fellow drowns himself in the gravy pot.
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That guy was dead before I got thereā¦
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True, was probably @SkyzykS who drowned
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Not a chance. Iām pretty much death proof. Not indestructible by any stretch, simply that I just donāt die.
Iāve destroyed a few ayceās though. After a while the guy dishing out the steaks catches on and starts just loading me up. A guy last year just got tired of seeing me and chucked about half a rib roast on my plate.
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This is a solid strategy. Works well!
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I feel this way too sometimes. My friend and I were riding in the fast lane with some guy tailgating us so we tried to pull to the right and let him pass but he attempted an illegal pass at the same moment. To avoid him we swerved through a grass median, across several lanes of oncoming traffic, and went off the side of a steep hill on the edge of the road. Flipped once midair, then another 2.5 times until we were upside down on the ground. Best part was, 1. The Space Jam theme had just come on prior to the crash (yāall ready for this?), 2. It was still playing while I was upside down, pouring blood out of my head and punching out the windows to escape while gasoline dripped on me and the car wouldnāt turn off, and 3. A cop who saw the whole thing drove us 100 miles back to Chesapeake, VA for formation (was still in the Marines), which we made on time. I pulled pieces of glass out of my head for literally 2 years afterwards, little small shards that would get under my nails when I scratched my head. The EMT who pulled up to the scene said heād never seen a car looking like ours with any survivors in it. We went on to survive combat deployments. āMurica.
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Thatās a hell of a story. Wow.