I am eating oranges and drinking black coffee, and I am happy again.
I was going to do this gradually by trending off swill onto "healthy whole grains," but when I looked at the maniacally grinning multiracial yuptastic couple on the Kashi box this morning, I Just. Could. Not. Go there. "Good Friends" my fat, raddled ass. Tonight the brown rice, the whole wheat bagels, the bread, the rotini, they go. They all go. Out, you bastard Kashi. Out! I'm glad I managed to finish the challah. But the storebought sourdough is untouched and I don't care: it's going. It's all going, probably to the home of a certain underweight lad I know. I dumped what was left of the carton of OJ down the sink, though. I couldn't inflict that stuff on any lad, no matter how underweight. Nasty weird opaque boiled tasting swill. Down the drain and straight to hell with you! Away! Away from me and mine.