I just heard yesterday that “sugary drinks” are now the #1 source of calories in the American diet.
Yeah, baby! We’re #1! We’re #1! We’re #1!
Something I can graph? Excuse me while I sprint to the spreadsheets. I get to graph something!
Lately I’ve been a wagon-follow-offerer. Vegetarian? Check! Granulated sugar? Check! Coke and/or Pepsi? Check! Alcohol? Now wait just a damn minute. I never went on that wagon. Ah. I see what you did there. Well played.
For some damn strange reason I seem to get off on attempting to test my willpower. This is invariably followed by a period of extreme humiliation. Try it! It’s good fun.
I blame my mother for my lifelong love affair with sugar. Some of my earliest memories of life involve the morning bowl of breakfast cereal. Like Cheerios. And it just wasn’t a bowl of soggies unless there was a gooey thick mess of partially disolved granulated sugar remaining in the bottom of the bowl.
To this day I wonder why she deliberately went out of her way to teach me that. I mean, I was only a child. I wouldn’t have known the difference if I was served Cheerios in the raw, right? By high school she’d changed her tune. The refrigerator in the garage was stocked only with diet soda. Oh my me and my sister despised that stuff. Saccharin is so delicious. Sometimes, though, we’d be forced against to drink it against our will out of sheer thirsty necessity. What a mother!
But it was too little too late. By that time my cravings were solidly cemented. Sugar and meat. The things affluent Americans crave. A process being repeated around the world as other countries experience a growing middle class of their own. (Growing. Heh. I made a waistline pun.)
When it comes to sugary drinks my advice is simple: Just Spew It.
By the way, 128-ounces is the same as a U.S. gallon. GALLON! 7-Eleven isn’t fooling anyone by putting the word “Team” in the name.