by MKI

Created on: March 19, 2009

I've come up with the answer for self improvement. And it's not a new diet fad (The Popeye Diet: All Spinach, All The Time, Now with Oxyclean!), not an infomercial touting the most scientific exercise machine (that will, without fail, be able to fold up neatly and be stored under your bed), not a magazine ad claiming that you didn't get the job because the suit you were wearing looked like something Cher (and, possibly, Byork) would wear, you just need to shop at We R Clothes, not an Internet pop-up ad guaranteeing...you get the picture.

There's no short cut on the road to self improvement. It takes more than a gimmick, a quick fix - something permanent.

Are you ready for the end-all-answer to self-improvement?

Duct tape. There's no better fix than the impromptu fix-it-king, duct tape.

Brilliant, I know.

Stop laughing.

I know there are naysayers out there. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: How can duct tape be the answer to all self improvement quandaries? You're also thinking: Did I lock the door when I left this morning?

For the naysayers, allow me to explain how I came up with this simple and effective solution. For the second question: Yes, you did. I, on the other hand, forgot.

My personal self improvement quest specifically involved exercise and fitness. As a cubicle monkey, and all around lazy person, I don't get a lot of exercise. Granted, taking advantage of the wheels on my chair and wheeling around the office (occasionally racing a coworker and making loud NASCAR-esque racing sounds), and running down five flights of stairs to beat the elevator crowd to the lunch line count as exercise. But suffice to say, those two activities weren't winning strategies in my battle against firming up the Hi-Helen's flapping beneath my arms ("Hi-Helen's" is the medical condition often identified and associated with plump-armed, short-sleeved neighbors who enthusiastically wave and their arm-flesh jiggles like Jell-O) and transforming them into perfect examples of vein-throbbing musculature.

I've gone down all the tried-and-true self improvement roads: I've read fitness books and watched fitness videos; drank protein shakes and ate protein bars (and, inevitably, vomited up protein shakes and protein bars; and for the record, it tasted the same coming up as it did going down); joined gyms (five, to date); bought home-exercise equipment that I cautiously prodded with a stick before deciding they'd be more useful collecting dust. And after those travels, I just ended

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