Life, Love, and Biscuits and Gravy

the theatrics of a breakfast lover
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JULY 27, 2011 7:11AM

Health Food and Right Hooks

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                "Health food?" I questioned her. “You mean like little green stems and whole grain wheat?”

                My girlfriend Jill had just told me that it was time I started watching my weight and the first thing I had to do is started eating healthier. No more extra gravy on my mashed potatoes; no more buttermilk corn-biscuits; no more extra sausage in the biscuits and gravy and definitely no more “unhealthy, corn fed, hormone injected beef from Publix.” She even cut off Wal-Mart.

                Our first shopping trip to the “Apple Market,” was almost as painful as watching corn grow. She was loading my cart full of broccoli, almonds, peanuts, zucchini, cucumber, carrots, celery, and even some wheat-filled things. I mentioned that I get these same sides when I go to a sports bar and order wings, but she said something about me neglecting the fact that they were fried. I then tried explaining the logistics of fried foods and how they actually help grease the bones and joints, while the ranch those greased up life-savers are dipped into is chop full of dairy supplements including: buttermilk, protein, and calcium. She picked up a bottle of ranch and proved me otherwise. She then threw in a bottle of ranch to supplement the chosen fruits-of-death she was about to force feed me.

                No beer, no beef, no chips, and I even discovered that the bottle of ranch was a zero fat bottle and the only thing worse than “low fat” is “no fat.” Fat is the key to all life, it makes things taste better, makes gravy thicken up, and keeps us warm in the winter. Why, without fat I do believe our faithful friend Yogi would have died his first winter, so I am very opposed to zero fat food. However, Jill always had a way with convincing me that I was wrong and she was right. We had an argument once over who got to hold the remote control and after a sturdy right hook, I relinquished the remote.

                As we approached the check out I started to realize how glad I was that Jill drug me to this store to get all this “health” food. Besides the fact that having a cart between her fists of furry and myself, no one here knew me so it did not matter how embarrassed I was, no one besides Jill would know. I figured on game days when she was away I would make a wall of beer on each shelf in front of the green stuff and by the time the beer was gone, no one would be sober enough to question me about my new diet.

                We got home, unloaded the cart, and put everything in the fridge. She then informed me that she was going to give me a back rub that night and that I was going to like it. She felt guilty about using my face to take her aggression out on and had tried many ways to ask forgiveness, but I always acted upset; who can blame me if I got back-rubs every night, right?

                The next morning she had me take her to the airport where she would fly out to Colorado for a week to stay with her family. They own a ranch out there and I guess it is a vegetable ranch because I cannot see how Jill could agree to keeping animals fenced in. We kissed goodbye at the gate and she told me that she was going to give me a back rub, make me biscuits and gravy, and clean my apartment when she got home. She always knew what to tell me to keep me in check.

                As soon as I got home, I rushed to the computer, went to my cousin’s website, and ordered some of his natural beef, after-all, she did tell me “no corn fed, no hormone induced” beef, and as everyone knows, natural beef has neither of those qualities. The beef got there by the end of the week (I presented my miserable position to my cousin and he slaughtered a cow that night and brought it to me four days later. I went and bought some all-natural organic whole milk, fired my grill up, and cracked open a Natural Light. I tried to stay as close to the guidelines of my diet, organic (milk), organic (beef), and lots of bread (beer), as humanly possible.

                As I sat down to eat my delicious dinner, I felt a sense of pride come over me. I was eating healthy without Jill’s assistance and without being prodded. I was in a state of bliss, a stage of enlightenment if you would. Halfway through my steak, Jill came through the front door of my apartment and I was frozen with terror. She glared at my plastic table, which bared a half eaten steak, half empty glass of milk, and an empty Natural Light. I tried explaining the better qualities of each, but she stormed out of the apartment in her usual manner, leaving my door wide open. Sitting in my chair, I started to get scared and anxious. If my apartment wasn’t clean when my buddies came over tomorrow, I’d be embarrassed and there would be no place to sit for the game, I shouted the most romantic thing I could think on the spot to make her come back, “Does this mean no back rub tonight!?”

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No back rub?
She rub who?
I need a rubs?
Maybe she rub your back with sticker bushes, styrofoam cups, peach fuzz,
Sadly, if you want a back-rub from her, all-natural milk and beef won't help you out.