Thursday, August 27, 2015

Juicing a la Snoop Dog

Day 3 of this awful experiment known as #juiceapalooza.

After only managing to consumer 2 1/3 bottles of the wretched stuff (Foul green, Too-gingery orange and Aloe Vera Surprise), I returned home to find what can only be described as a total dinner fail. The pork in the crock pot, ostensibly barbecue, had a smell and a texture that absolutely no one in their right mind would consume.

I chalk this up to making dinner early yesterday morning while foaming at the mouth in a juice famine frenzy. (Slow cooker meals + juice fast = really terrible food).

Fortunately, I had actually eaten a few lettuce leaves yesterday, and I credit the salad dressing with giving me enough fat to fuel my brain cells. Sometimes, you just gotta admit defeat and call papajohns.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was pizza time. Call me bastardizing a classic, but I bet Charles Dickens never tried slow cooker pork bbq while juicing (A Tale of Two Collards?)

Lucky for me, the pizza arrived before the kids realized how close they came to eating pork mush. Unlucky for me, pizza didn't stop them from trying to drown each other in the pool. And because I am THE WORST MOM EVER, I made them come inside. I know, I'm such a witch - it's just this thing I have? Where I don't like my kids to kill each other?

Towels were flung, there was a lot of smacking and a last-minute showdown with Nerf guns (there is a special place in Hell for you, Nerf). I barely made it through the drama unscathed, and honestly, I had to eat the rest of my son's pizza before I totally lost my s*** and went all Mommy Dearest on the little scamps.

Eventually, people went to bed. Only to get up about 5 times. Because there is a ghost that lives in my son's closet. I mean, duh. Everyone knows that.

What seemed like days later, I found myself wandering into the kitchen and reaching for an open bottle of Chardonnay. And before you judge, let me point out that wine comes from grapes.

Which are fruit.
Fruit liquefied = juice.
And there you go.

This is my last day. I have 2 juices at work. I am ignoring them. I hope a magic fairy sneaks into my cube and devours them. (Also? If that magic fairy could turn my office into a cute balcony in the French Quarter, I'd be down with that, too)

So here, in summary, are the top ten things I've learned from this nutritional fiasco:

1. I said it before, I will say it again. Collards + bacon = yes. Collards in a glass = no. It's that simple.

2. Satan, thy name is beets. In fact I'm pretty sure in Hell, every meal is beets. Except on Tuesdays when they serve meatloaf.

3. Never trust a green drink unless you're on a balcony with Pierce Brosnan. In which case, don't hate being a foregone conclusion. Hate that your breakfast is compost instead of a croissant.

4. If God intended us to drink aloe vera, He would not have made it so effective as a sunburn treatment.

5. Things that go on the outside of your body don't belong inside. I don't care what you think 9 1/2 weeks taught you, or what chichi restaurant is serving lavender ice cream. Just say no to #lotionfood.

6. Did I mention that beets are evil? I can't emphasize this enough. Really, really bad.

7. I am not a very nice person when I'm hungry.

8. I am slightly more pleasant after a slice of pizza.

9. I am WAY nicer after a glass of wine.

10. As God is my witness, I will never juice again. Unless, of course, the juice in question comes with a side of gin, or in a glass bottle.

With a cork.

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