How Natural Health has Ruined my Life

That’s it. I’ve come to realize that I really do need to get out more. Enough of this healthy stuff! I mean, after all, I used to be a relatively fun person. I laughed. I had a good time! I had witty repartee with friends and family. But no longer. No sirree. All this natural health blather has invaded my person and gone is the fun, funky freewheeling Suzy of yore. She’s been replaced by this straight-laced, educated, mung-bean eating, tree-hugging health freak. And frankly, I’m not happy about it. I long for the days when I could look deeply into the eyes of my fellow conversationalist, and marvel at the depth and resonance of their sparkling brown eyes, without having to wonder how totally toxic their colon must be. Instead of complementing them on the beauty of their gaze, I launch into a full-blown dissertation of their bowel health, bathroom habits and the myriad of parasitical houseguests they must be harboring. And yet I wonder why those dinner invitations come less and less often. Gone are the carefree days spent lounging pool-side (air pollution and chem-trails) catching some rays (skin cancer) and throwing back a few cold ones (preservatives, alcohol, aluminum) waiting for the barbecue (carcinogens, heavy metal poisoning, fetid putrefaction) to sear up something tasty. Oh no. Now it’s freshly sprouted wheat grass juice highball with a noni juice sidecar accompanying my hormone free, dairy free xenobiotic-less, free-range tofu patty with raw bulgur pilaf and carrot puree. It looks a bit like something the cat barfed up, if you ask me. Of course, this is consumed in the lotus position on my organically raised cotton and hemp zafu cushion in my ozone-replaced, reverse osmosis-ly correct dust and pollution free, noise reduced, wind-chimed, feng-shui correct domicile. Enough is enough! I’m through! I don’t want to be in charge of my own health! I don’t want choices. No choices! No more organic, pesticide free anything for me! No sir! I want it packaged, over-processed, genetically engineered, irradiated and ready at the touch of a microwave button. Hey, I’m gonna buy a microwave. Who cares about all that radiation! Ha. Damn the responsibility I say. No prevention. Just give me a pill. Heck, gimme a whole handful of em’! Forget all these vitamins! And those supplements, hah! I mean, just because they SAY they make you live longer, and healthier and happier — who cares about that! And no more vegetarian diet either. Bring me a cow. I want a steak! Two steaks! A whole roast! I’m gonna eat protein till my eyes pop out. No more vegetables. I want things with parents! Bring on the dead stuff! And I’m NOT gonna keep drinking all that filtered water either! That stuff’s for fish! Give me a good old-fashioned RC Cola and a moon pie. With a Big old glass of whole milk on the side. Mmmmm-mmm. Yessiree. I mean, how can a kidney or a liver really compare to a good ole’ fashioned steak and potato dinner with about a half a loaf of white bread and a nice cold Bud on the side? Then again…


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