I love the all-you-can-eat buffet. I love the selection. I love that I don't have to wait for my food. I love the challenge.

Because there are two types of people who go to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Winners and Losers.

There is a buffet here in New York City that I love the best. It's $30, but it's totally worth it. Quality food. Steak. Lobster. Shrimp. Other stuff.

It is a challenge. How much can I eat before the owner asks me to leave?

Losers think this is a sprint. You've got to pace yourself! This isn't the 50 yard dash! This is a marathon! I can eat non-stop all day. All I need are some cups of water to splash on my face and an oxygen mask. Because I eat until I can't breathe.

It IS a competition. The lobster WILL run out. And I will shoulder-check you to get there first. Sorry, grandma.

Losers eat cheap items like pasta. And bread. And salad. Idiots. How the hell can you eat $30 worth of rice?!!! You can't! Plus it fills you up.

Winners eat ONLY the most expensive items. I eat prime rib. I eat lobster. I pluck the shrimp out of the lobster sauce. I'm that guy. The guy you glare at while you mouth the word, "Winner."

Losers drink soda. Morons! Soda costs the restaurant 5 cents per barrel. I drink the blood that drips out of my steak.

Losers go into the buffet and "see what strikes their fancy." What strikes my fancy is striking a match and lighting your nose hair on fire you worthless piece of sushi.

Winners go in with a game plan. Before I go to the buffet, I draw up the X's and O's. I call ahead to ask which items will be available. I only go during off-peak hours to minimize my competition.

Losers sit as close as they can to the buffet. They think by way of their proximity they will get the best food first. That's losers for you!

Winners like me sit next to the kitchen. While your face is buried in your plate, my eyes are fixed on the kitchen doors. I'm not just eating. I'm anticipating. I am the first to see the new dishes enter the dining room. I see the fresh lobster come out and I'm on that busboy like fried pork on rice. Now your dumb-ass can get behind me in line as I pile my plate high with a skyscraper of crustacean parts.

Losers don't put any thought into their outfit.

Winners like me arrive at the buffet in a loose fitting track suit with my name across the back of my jacket. While you're wasting time unbuckling your belt, my elastic waistband is expanding to accommodate more crab legs. Sucker.

Losers get that crappy ice cream/frozen yogurt crap from that crappy machine where you pull down the crappy lever and out swirls your crappy fake ice cream. Dipwad.

Winners grab all the expensive pastries and cookies. Eat my crumbs, you dyspeptic dickeldork.

Winners have knowledge. You can't simply eat 22 pounds of beef. Your brain will shut down from toxic protein syndrome. You need to mix in some fresh fruit to trick your brain into thinking that you are not slowing poisoning your kidneys.

Losers go for the watermelon slices. Dullards! Watermelon is cheap!

Winners eat the strawberries. I dip the strawberries in the chocolate fountain because that's awesome. When I'm in Championship mode, I don't even eat a "traditional dessert." I go the to the chocolate fountain where everyone else is dipping fruit and I dip jumbo shrimp.

Losers mix all types of different food on their plate. Sesame chicken (why the HELL are you eating chicken anyway?!!!) with garlic mushrooms and piece of spicy tuna roll sushi.

Morons! You're confusing your digestive system! You don't mix carbs with proteins! This makes your stomach release different acids, slowing you down and zapping your energy!

Meanwhile I've got plenty of energy! You know why? Because the night before, I slept 12 hours. For 3 weeks, I've visualized this moment. Before I sat down, I was outside stretching my abdominals and doing jumping jacks while stepping on your face... sorry, grandma.

Losers get full and slow down.

When I feel full I fold my legs under me in a yoga position and I meditate. Mind over matter. I'm just getting warmed up! You think Buddha got so big by whining about feeling full?! Buddha is my hero! Your God is some skinny dude! My God is eating and laughing at you. You know why? Because you are a pathetic prickly-puss.

Losers are at their table talking to the people they came with. As IF this is about socializing!

Winners like me don't talk. That's a waste of precious jaw movements. It's a scientific fact that the mandible can only make 2,012 reps before exhaustion. I'm not wasting precious reps talking with LOSERS about whatever loser-talk it is that losers talk about.

Losers wait in line at the buffet. Winners have vision. I use a small child as a pick and I roll left to the opening in front of the onion rings.

Yeah right! As IF I would eat cheap-ass onion rings! I'm driving straight for the Peking Duck!

Losers eat soup. Winners splash our soup in your face! Sorry, grandma!

How do I know that I'm a winner? Because when YOU enter the all-you-can-eat buffet, the owner welcomes you with a smile and a hearty handshake.

But when I enter the buffet, the hostess shrieks, "It's him!"

The cooks point at me at yell. Some of them quit on the spot.

The other patrons stand and applaud. Flash bulbs go off. The children beg me for autographs.

And the owner scampers into the corner, crumples into his chair with his head in his hands, and sobs uncontrollably. They all know they are in the presence of... a winner!