Vegetarians, I don't hate you.

For some reason half of the stories I write here turn into making jokes at the expense of the poor people who actually try to eat healthily. It's a complete accident, I promise.

It's not like I get up in the morning with a food hangover from the fried chicken sandwiches the day before and say: "Today, I'm going to make myself feel better by picking on people who make better choices than me."
Or if I do, it's the subconscious.

It gets to be troubling, because it isn't just stories, but also how I react to situations. I have in the past made fun of nice people who eat raw broccoli because it is healthy and probably damaged their reputations. There is unfortunately not much of a control unit between Mr. Brain and Mr. Boca.
(Boca means mouth in Spanish. I have a bad habit of populating my sentences with spanish frases, pero no puedes anything about it.)
Or Spanglish phrases at any rate. (Why does Spanglish sound like some disgusting pseudo-Italian dish?)

I've attempted to add some kind of dam in the thought-to-word flow, but my capitalistic brain decided to charge tolls.
Oh well. At least I have EZ-Pass.

That's a stupid analogy because they don't charge tolls on dams.
But don't give them any ideas.

It's especially a problem since I've frequented mostly homeschooler circles over the course of my young life, and (homeschooler fun fact for those of you who don't know much about us) about every third homeschooler you meet has some kind of weird hippie-food thing.
I just did it again. We'll rephrase that. Some kind of responsible I-will-take-care-of-my-body-thing. So they get natural peanut butter and don't eat dairy and all that stuff. Coolio. When people talk about how in depth their health regimes are, I just kind of stare and say stuff like:
"Well... I brush my teeth regularly..."
"I make sure to read the sides of the cereal boxes so I know what I'm eating..."
and the best:
"Yea, I exercised once. It was nice." (Awkward silence after this one.)

I think it's ironic, because culturally speaking, the stereotype is that girls and women are the ones who care about their health, and guys are just like,
"BACON!"

And it's unfortunately too true, but for some reason we of the male race seem to think that lifting weights for five minutes burns off all of the garbage we just imbibed for the previous six hours.
I assume it works kind of like burning random trash. The worst stuff just stays there amidst the ashes of everything else.
If that's true, my body is made up by about seventy percent of metaphorical melted plastic and clocks.

What, you don't set your clocks on fire?
You should.

Sometimes I legitimately try to follow the example of healthy people.

Sam reads a blog on burpees.
"I can do that." Sam thinks.
Sam does three burpees, cries, brain goes into a fuzz and he wakes up six hours later eating icecream out of a mixing bowl.

I do have an on-off relationship with exercise, but she hasn't been returning my calls.