Carbivore.

7 Sep

I need to eat more fruits and vegetables. But….I’d rather eat butter.

All day long while I am out and about doing roofing things, dealing with asshole Western Pennsylvanians, and working up an appetite, all I dream about and look forward to is the moment I get home and can sit down and binge eat. It’s what gets me through the day. At the beginning of each day, I have high hopes that today I will eat healthfully. Lots of veggies and liquids, I plan. Then the day goes on, and all I want to do is dive into a swimming pool full of macaroni and cheese and then eat my way out, because damnit, I deserve it.

By the time I finally get home at night, I tear into the kitchen in a carb-consuming rampage, shuffling around the kitchen with a Wheat Thins box clutched under my arm, up to my elbows in crackers as I boil water on the stove for my pending spaghetti. I storm the kitchen grazing aggressively, and by the time my pasta is actually done boiling, I’m nearly comatose from the carbohydrate overload I’ve forced up on myself.

.

Today I came home and boiled noodles. I ate plain old noodles with just butter on them. Carbohydrate desperation is what you call that. I have no shame.

.

.

Tropical storm “Lee” has brought on continuous rain for the rest of the week. I will be doing nothing this week in celebration. I wish to sleep, surf the ‘net, and snack myself half to death. Except tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to go buy a vacuum.

I need to befriend employees of shwaggy department stores so I can get and use their discount on various material goods. I guess I could always apply and get a job there for that reason, too. I’d work there for an hour, buy a bunch of shit, and then be like, “Peace out motherf-ckers.”  That seems like a lot of work though.

I wish to spend all of my money on denim and leather goods. I don’t think it is possible for me to get enough of these things. Won’t someone just give me six million dollars? I think that’s enough. I need a sugar daddy. I need to win the lottery. I need stuffs.

WELL, I’m going to watch fifteen episodes of Law & Order SVU. SVU really gets me through my evenings. I hope this series never ends. If they discover medicines or herbs that keep people alive forever, and there turns out to be an extremely limited amount of these elixirs, I am very okay with those rations being given to the Law & Order SVU cast so that they may stay alive and continue to make suspenseful, dramatic crime shows until the day that I die.

Ta ta.

_________________________________________________________________

B:   What do you call a black person who flies a plane?

J:   I don’t know, a terrorist?

B:   A pilot, you racist.

J:   Maybe where you’re from. This is America, and if you’re not white and you’re flying a plane, you’re probably up to no good.

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