Dear two-faced healthy foods,
Who do you think you are? Strutting all up in my face and telling me to change my diet. I know KFC’s Double Down is a death trap designed to put me to sleep. This doesn’t mean you need to tell me I should be munching on some celery instead.
Don’t confuse my hate for you as hate for your brother, real healthy food. I know he means well, which makes him hard to hate, at least until my mom gives me some Diet Coke to drink. The consolation is that bits of him are quite good – like baked fish, oatmeal and honey nut Cheerios. This doesn’t mean we are best friends, but we’re definitely pleasant acquaintances.
My real gripe is with you, not-healthy-healthy-foods, or as I like to call you, two-faced healthy scumbag. It’s one thing for me to give up scrumptious sugary goodness for a little less flab on my tummy, but it’s another thing for me to give it up in exchange for the same amount of flab, but with no satisfaction from what I eat. You know what I’m talking about: cranberry juice, granola bars, premade salads. I should have smelled something fishy when it didn’t taste so different from what I usually consume, but I guess I simply thought you were a decent human being.
And how dare you trick me into paying more for ‘healthy’ foods? There are people out there, myself obviously not included, who genuinely want to get healthy, and instead are deluded by your shady marketing schemes. Thanks for letting me know that your smoothies are made with real fruit, while handily ignoring the boatload of syrups and dairy products you threw in as well.
Stop throwing words like ‘organic’ and ‘gluten-free’ at us too. They don’t always mean healthy and you know it. At least McDonald’s has the decency to tell me straight up that their fries are deep fried multiple times and with enough preservatives to last a couple months.
I hope you’re content knowing that a bunch of us are happily making PB&Js with reduced-fat peanut butter – blissfully unaware that you just replaced the fat with sugar, salt and empty calories.
Don’t let me see you on campus, because I am not afraid to throw you into my deep fryer.