OK I totally brain farted just now because as I sat down at the computer and as my fingers started to dance on the keys some Lady Gaga mashup came on my earbuds and I got all distracted. Seriously – was there a song on “The Fame” that wasn’t a hit?
Anyway, there’s been this huge wave of healthy, organic, vegan, macrobiotic food that’s taken over the diets of America. Every member of polite society now has some kind of unique dietary specifications be it lactose intollerance or some other food allergy. Digestive dysfunction. Secret diseases. Problems. I’ve got several friends that are vegan now, but from people I’ve been meeting lately I can tell that vegan is just a better word for pretentious stuck up hippie that you can never be as good as.
There are two different kinds of vegans, the TRUE vegans and the ones who just do it to create another sepereation between them and the rest of society. You can always spot it, they interject the word vegan anytime they get the mic. It’s like a last ditch effort to be interesting for a lot of people.
My friend Sarah is the most awesome Vegan I’ve met, and probably one of the few I actually can handle spending any extended period of time now. She’s got an entire album on Facebook with all of her vegan creations in it that’s mouth-wateringly amazing.
So what’s so cool about a special diet? It’s not like smoking and drinking, you don’t get anything from it besides Kwashiorkor. You can’t go to a bar, eat a bunch of vegan food and stuble home with an ugly chick. You don’t eat a bunch of vegan food then have a crazy craving for cartoons and REAL food.
But the other side of the issue is people who eat real food but it HAS to be organic or just different in some way. Like people that only eat goats milk. GEW! I have a hard enough time drinking the milk of an animal like a cow much less a foul little goat. Look at this greek lady milking a goat.
Are you really OK with eating Brie now? I’m sorry but I can’t see the difference between milking a goat and milking a dog. We had a goat. or sheep. or something like that when I was growing up. It had this long wool that started to look like Bob Marley after a while, then all it’s doo doo would get trapped in it and my dad called them Dingleberries. I hated that damn thing, it was so gross. Now I picture consuming, into my body, products from that vile creature. I just threw up into my nose a little that time.
I think I’m just not trendy enough for s special diet. Even if I was I know I wouldn’t stick to it, I can barely handle making it to the gym a couple times a week. I quit smoking, that’s accomplishment enough for my health. Pay no attention to the case of cookie dough I ate this week (mostly cooked) and the bag of lay’s salt and cracked pepper kettle chips I ate last night.
I think every artery in my body ached just now.