The arguments against a diet consisting of a pint of Ben n' Jerry's ice cream per day for the next two weeks go something like this:

a) That's totally unhealthy.

b) You're going to feel awful.

c) You're going to be very, very constipated.

d) You're going to be weak and cranky all the time.

e) No, really, you're going to feel awful.

Valid concerns, all.  But on the positive side:

a) I'll lose weight, I'm almost positive.

b) In any case, we'll have some laughs along the way.

c) I really like ice cream.

Some quick background:

I've never been what you'd call "fat."  In fact, I've spent most of my 40 years being what many would call "thin."  I have, however, been what I would call "fat adjacent", most notably toward the end of college and several years beyond.  Meaning there was some significant beer/pizza/more beer/nacho cheese guttage going on, and a doughiness about the face, and just an extra icky layer of Tiersky that was (among other drawbacks) making the already challenging task of female seduction that much more challenging, particularly here in Los Angeles, where competition is fierce, people are beautiful, and that sort of thing simply won't stand.

 The beginning of 1999 is when I first tried the Atkins Diet, inspired by a shockingly slimmed-down cousin (who warned me, quite accurately, "It's a boring, boring diet.").  I had planned to spend a month eating a minimum of carbs and see how that went.  It surpassed all expectations: By day 17, the gut was gone, the clothes weren't fitting, and I was down to weight I hadn't been since high school.  I prematurely curtailed the carb-cutting and joined a gym.  The next time I went home, close friends barely recognized me.  It was exhilarating.

Then the harsh truth of dieting set in, namely that the results rarely last.  Eventually, your life takes a turn that limits your gym visits (and it can be as simple as: You're sick of going and would prefer spending the time on other shit), you don't alter your diet to compensate, and pretty soon, you're back where you were.  So you set aside another three weeks of Atkins-ing (except this time you vow to maintain your gym membership and keep the damn weight off for good!) and the cycle starts anew.

 Which wouldn't be so vicious a cycle, except that the Atkins Diet a) doesn't always work so well, for reasons you can't quite discern; and b) is at best, extremely boring, and at worst, rather gross.  Three weeks of no booze, no sweets, no bread, no rice, no fruits, no milk, no chips, and few vegetables.  It's meat and cheese and more meat and eggs and pork rinds and diet soda and chicken broth and protein bar, which you've learned go down much easier when sprayed with whipped cream.  By week three, you find that you would rather fill your plate from the cat box than eat another goddamn omelette.  And you like omelettes.

 And again: It doesn't even work every time.

 Thus began the search for alternatives, none of which really did the job as effectively as Atkins at its best until earlier this year, when I foresook the gimmick diets and decided to give counting calories a try.  This was mainly inspired by an interview with Michael Fassbender on the Criterion DVD of the brilliant "Hunger" (seriously, if you take nothing else away from this...and that's quite possible...Rent this movie.).  He explained that he reached the rather revoltingly emaciated state he's in by the film's end (he plays Bobby Sands, a real-life Irish prisoner who died on hunger strike in prison) simply by staying below 1,200 calories a day for six weeks and then reducing it to 800 calories for the next four weeks.  Obviously, since I'm not quite aiming for Sandsesque proportions, I envisioned a slightly more moderate, somewhat briefer version of it.

 Cutting calories turned out to be love at first diet.  It allowed far more variety than Atkins, and a much larger volume of consumption, and it was unquestionably healthier, was just as fast, and to my surprise, even kind of fun.  Each day was like a math problem: How to eat as much as possible, and like it, and still stay under the limit?  (Most of the answers involved oatmeal, turkey and cheese sandwiches, raspberries and popcorn.)  And most importantly, it worked!  Within two weeks of keeping it around 1,000-1,200 calories per day, I was easily slipping on jeans that hadn't fit in years.

 But the main selling point of the thing was freedom.  Meaning that Atkins involved forcing your body into a chemical state that stepping over the carb line knock it right out of.  A single cookie could conceivably set you back several days of Atkins work, but on the calorie plan, it would merely be a matter of cutting something else from the day, or working out a little longer the next day (my exercise regimen while dieting generally consists of an hour on the elliptical, first thing in the morning, burning approximately 700 calories, if the machine is to be believed).

 All of which brings us to the Ben & Jerry's diet.  Again, it's simple math: A typical pint of B&J contains four servings (!) of 250-300 calories.  Is staying under 1,200 calories a day formula for weight loss even if those calories come entirely from the likes of milk, chocolate, cookie dough, caramel and waffle cone shards?  

 Well...Here we go.

 So the rules are simple:  One pint per day for two weeks.  No other food.  Different flavor every day, just for maximum variety and fun.  Non-caloric beverages are allowed: Water, diet soda, coffee.  Multi-vitamins are also allowed.

 I'm about to leave for the gym, where I'll do the initial weigh-in (I'm guessing...175ish?), and possibly have someone take a "Before" picture (ah yes, looking forward to that locker room conversation).  I will try to post daily updates as to my weight, health, state of mind, and anything else I feel so urged to blather on.

The inaugural flavor will be Half Baked, which the label identifies as "Chocolate & Vanilla Ice Creams mixed with Fudge Brownies & Gobs of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough."

 Okay, then.

 Calorie count: 270/serving.   (Trivia note: It's also 35 grams of carbs per serving, which puts it at 140 carbs per pint, which is approximately a week's worth of Atkins Diet carbs.  Suck it, Atkins.)

 I should mention here that the choice of Ben & Jerry's is an arbitrary one; I'm giving them the business on this mainly because I got the idea while perusing a B&J label, and also for the variety of flavors.  And it's good stuff.  But needless to say, to whatever degree this works, it would presumably work with any ice cream of similar caloric count.

All righty.  To the gym. 

Then to the ice cream.

Let us scream.