Low carb faggot

I’m on the ass end of a low carb diet blitz. I’ve eaten so much lunch meat in the last two weeks I could puke. In fact, I’ll be right back…

Okay, I feel better now.

Anyway, in this carbless chaos, I didn’t eat anything without first dipping it in ranch dressing, and don’t ask me how much I pooped (because I'll tell you). It was hell, and I loved every minute…even the pooping, because it was interesting that my body doing something different. I haven‘t endured this much self-deprivation since I stopped breast feeding...or stopped being breast fed, rather.

However, this diet was mostly successful until the inevitable happened...it coincided with my time of the month. That’s right, boys and girls, Jakey was riding the cotton pony…waving the crimson flag…straddling the diaper dildo. I crave sugar like a motherfucker during my cycle, and the only thing that circumvents my need for sweets is some sugar in my poo nagie…and Lordy knows that ain’t be happenin'. Shit. I don’t even know what a dick looks like anymore, much less what to do if presented with one. Do I squeeze it like a tube of toothpaste or stroke it like a newborn kitten? Do I slurp it like spaghetti or sip it like sweet and sour? I have no idea how to answer these questions.

Genitals aside, after eating a sensible salad and cottage cheese for lunch today, I proceeded to consume spaghetti and berries coated in white chocolate after getting home from work. It was almost too easy to get derailed. As I brought the glossy ball of chocolaty ambrosia to my lips, I thought to myself, “Am I going to feel guilty?” In short, yes, but I feel guilty for most things (thanks, mom!), so that doesn’t necessarily offer any insight to my disposition.

I feel like a total rebel, an outsider who has rejected the frivolous chains of a low-carb lifestyle. I’m like a carbohydrate superhero, a sugary stallion who may choose a scone for breakfast if he chooses…or maybe even a muffin. Freedom is on my side, and I didn't even have to declare war to earn it. I just had to eat candy.

I’m already planning my trip to the grocery store tomorrow morning. I will dance down the aisles and select items that will bestow my cabinet with foods that saturate my blood with insulin, only leaving me to want more. I think I will bake some chocolate chip cookies…with extra chips. Hell, maybe I’ll get a wild hair across my ass and bake something new. I’ve always wanted to make lemon pound cake. Mmmmm…

The most exciting part, however, is that I’ll be able to enjoy a Starbucks Gingerbread Latte this holiday season. Make it a Venti.