I've said it once and I'll say it again. Peeps are a culinary abomination. They have zero nutritional value and only crazy people eat them (she says as she stuffs a Peep into her face). These little disasters are my holiday weakness. I just can't stop eating them. Even since I started counting calories, I still find a way to fit them into my daily budget. Just a few minutes ago, I was at Walgreen's, minding my own business and waiting on a prescription when I saw them - chocolate dipped coconut Peeps. Why do you do this to me food gods? You know I am weak. Turns out I can eat the whole package for only 150 calories (empty, nutritionless, delicious calories), so of course, I bought them. As I write this blog, I am still sipping my tea and licking the chocolate off my guilty, guilty lips.
Why can't healthy food be this good? Don't get me wrong, I adore fresh veggie stir fry and savory tofu with udon noodles, but processed food is like dope (sweet, savory, chocolate covered dope). I've read enough articles and watched enough documentaries in my life to know that corporations do this on purpose. They have teams of scientists who sell their soul to the almighty dollar and work tirelessly in their dark, secret labs using science to create the most tasty and irresistible combinations (I like to imagine them cackling manically).
I admire people who go Vegan or raw and then post all of their healthy life choices on social media (this is inevitably followed by pictures of their new healthy body and chiseled abs). They clearly have better scruples or are more masochistic than me. I live less than 6 blocks from Burger King, McDonald's, and Subway. Oh, but these same people no longer crave bad food. They have lost their taste for it and are now repulsed by the thought of eating it. Why can't this be me? Why don't my crap food receptors ever turn off? And how, how in the name of all that is holy do these people sit across from their friends who are devouring quadruple cheese stuffed burritos slathered in sour cream? I'd be licking them for the residual cheese on their skin.
Maybe someday I too will break free from my indentured servitude to the corporate food empire. Maybe I will have chiseled abs. For today, I will enjoy my 150 nutritionless calories and be satisfied that I have discovered a love for rutabaga.
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