i heart infomercials.

have you seen those commercials for that ab-strengthening belt thing? the one that shakes your midsection violently while you go about your normal business of, say, lounging on the beach, or reading the morning paper, or making your closing arguments in capital murder trial? the one that's supposed to magically give you a six-pack at the touch of the button without any work whatsoever?

because i want one.

don't get me wrong—i'm still on the shredding kick and, after three weeks off thanks to greece, i'm back to running. but, let's be serious, if someone has invented a contraption that will shake me this way and that and somehow give me abs-o-steel without making me even get up off the couch during law and order? sign me up.

but there's no way it works, right? that's what i keep telling myself. because literally, there is very little standing in the way of me purchasing the ab belt thing except for that nagging little voice in the back of my head telling me, no, silly, that thing doesn't work. it can't work. it's a scam. you have to actually sweat to get results. that little guy gets quieter and quieter every time i see the commercial.

here's the problem with me and, well, any infomercial: i love them. inexplicably. no matter what it's for, i'll watch it, rapt with attention, as the bullet minces an onion in FIVE SECONDS FLAT or the quick cooker roasts a completely frozen chicken in like 10 minutes. it's miraculous! plus, it looks so delicious.

i hate to admit it, but sometimes i'll get up early on saturday mornings just so i can watch infomercials in peace. if chris is in the room, i feel sheepish and will flip by an infomercial a hundred times and watch it in bits and pieces. sometimes i forget to keep flipping and he makes fun of me. but in the wee morning hours on the weekend, the tv's all to myself, and i can indulge in all the informercial watching i want. it's truly glorious.

the funny thing is, i rarely actually purchase anything. (i almost typed "never" but changed it to "rarely" because, truth be told, i once bought windsor pilates based solely on the infomericial. but that was a good investment, as i've been known to pop in those DVDs from time to time and i still haven't lost the sculpting circle that came with it. i also once bought a topsy tail when i was in elementary school, but that was actually my mom who did the dialing and paying—at my incessant prodding, of course—so i don't really count that. unfortunately, my hair was too thin for the topsy tail to actually work and i was disappointed for years, but that's neither here nor there.) i just like to watch them and marvel at the magical inventions people have come up with to do completely mundane things that you could do yourself in less time than it takes to pull whatever the product is off the shelf in the closet, dust it off, and plug it in. plus, the hosts on those things are so energetic. who needs coffee when you can watch the sham-wow guy?

i also think when you actually set about buying something from an infomercial, it means you've officially crossed over...to where, i'm not sure, but i imagine it's a place that would get you sent straight to the looney bin if those places still existed. instead, they just send you to rehab with lilo.

anyway, the ab belt thing. i'm obsessed. singularly. but i won't give in and actually buy it. (however, if the people over at the ab belt place were to SEND ME A FREE ONE I WOULDN'T SEND IT BACK AND I'D EVEN USE IT AND MAYBE EVEN WRITE A REVIEW ABOUT ABOUT IT HERE FOR THE READING PLEASURE OF ALL MY MILLIONS OF LOYAL READERS, WHO WOULD THEN GO OUT AND BUY THE PRODUCT BASED ON MY ACCOLADES.)

so...dear ab belt people, please send me your product. for free. love, el.