Never . . . eating . . . McDonald's . . . again . . .

Although I've indulged in Mickey D's more often than I'd like to admit in in the Unites States, I've largely avoided it since moving to Seoul. This is mostly because I've tried to establish and maintain a healthier lifestyle, but also because I always fear that locals who see me entering the store will think, "Check out the fat American going in for a Big Mac!"

But after my friend and KBS co-worker, Luke, and I underwent a months-long diet and exercise regimen (during which french fries and cheeseburgers started to sound mighty appetizing) we decided to take a trip to McDonald's to devour all the greasy, salty, mystery meaty goodness we could possibly stomach. And the point was to eat as much as we could. We wanted to kill the temptation once and for all, or at least for the next six months or so. So after hitting my lowest weight since high school earlier this week we decided now was as good a time as any to embrace our inner over eaters.

Between us, we ate one Big Mac, six cheeseburgers, one McChicken sandwich, two medium orders of french fries, one large order french fries, three strawberry milkshakes, one chocolate milkshake, three Cokes, and about twelve packets of ketchup. For me, it was literally a gut-wrenching experience. For one thing, I don't handle dairy well in this country, so I was feeling sick half way through the first milkshake, yet proceeded to drink the rest plus one more. The physical implications started there and quickly spiraled downward. The next morning Luke claimed the food extravaganza had given him acne. Neither of us is craving McDonald's anymore, though!

Luke used McDonald's nutrition facts to calculate our caloric intake. As he itemized our smorgasbord of gluttony on grease-stained receipts I wriggled around in my chair, trying to find the most comfortable position for my bulging belly and aching midsection. The result: 3,500 calories for Luke and 2,375 for yours truly.