I'm not normally awake and watching TV at six on a Saturday morning, so I miss most of the infomercials. And the sunrise, which was pointy and orange.

Most of the infomercials on right now are about miracle weight loss "cures" and body shaping products. They tell me not to waste my money on a trainer or the gym and instead to buy their super awesome kick ass slimming product. Did we mention it's a motionless program? If you can stand still, you can lose weight! And oh, it is a little tempting. Except then I remember that time I bought the Body By Jake Ab Rocker or the other time I bought a ThighMaster and promised myself I would never do that ever again.

Still it tugs at me. Especially because there is a fire along the back of my arms and legs and in my abs, so really a quick fix sounds pretty damn good. Sign me up, infomercial. Er, no. I don't have any space to store your bean shaped rocking chair that deflates in seconds. Or the assorted slimming tubes you want me to wear around my offensive mid-section. Or all the hip hop DVDs that I can never use because the floors are too thin and my neighbors are not fans of the clomping. Then there are all the pills and also, colon detoxification. You've got 5-25 pounds of shit and parasites just waiting to be flushed out! You're irresponsible if you just let it take up residence in your gut, killing you. All these infomercials say the same thing: we love you but we would love you more if you weren't such a lard ass.

The idea of a shortcut is appealing, and I guess that's why I keep clicking back to see what the fake doctors say and do next. Tell me what I want to hear, baby. Oh, yeah. Tell me how easy, how fast, show me how sexy I can be. Don't. Ever. Stop.

Or maybe I will go read a book instead.