I'm not saying I'm sick of everything. I'm saying everything I eat makes me sick.
Actually, let me revise that; I'm being dramatic. Everything that should be good for me makes me sick. Burgers, pizza, chocolate, and other nutritional neutron bombs always make me feel fantastic. Chips, dip, soda, candy, and fried chicken? Tip top. Broccoli, melon, milk, tomatoes, and fish? Gastrointestinal Tilt-a-Whirl.
Why does this happen? Aren't you supposed to trust your body when it reacts adversely to something you put into it? Is it any wonder my diet is shameful? You could theorize that I've eaten so badly for so long that my body has simply gotten used to it. You could also theorize that what's good for one person isn't good for another. But my doctor would most likely theorize that my cholesterol level indicates that I should pipe down, grow up, and eat my goddam broccoli.
I'd say it speaks volumes that my favorite food item in the world is something known as a Garbage Plate. It was concocted in Rochester, NY, by a greek gourmand named Nick Tahou, and he's something of a legend in my hometown. It consists of a bed of either baked beans or macaroni salad on one half of the plate, homefries on the other, and either two cheeseburger patties or two hot dogs (no buns) piled on it. As the coup de grace, they slop on some Texas-style hot sauce, onions, ketchup, and mustard. And if you're feeling especially masochistic, you can sop up the grease with your complimentary slab of stale bread. Fantastic. Not good for you by a long shot, but it's ambrosia.
Witness the beauty:
Just look at that. Holy Hell.