Hey jerks —
For months I have been begging y’all to feed me the flesh of a fan and y’all must think you’re pretty damn smart bringing me the one foe I cannot eat: Rice.
I AM KETO, PEOPLE.
Y’all claim that you love me, but you monsters are bringing RICE to campus and you’re gonna eat it in front of me without even feeling guilty about how I am forced to eschew carbohydrates by society’s unrealistic expectations for Tiger Bodies.
And, frankly, you’d be on a low carb diet too if they employed someone who had, as part of her job description, “update the public on Me The Tiger’s weight.”
It’s not like me being on Atkins, I mean KETO, this is definitely not the Atkins diet repackaged to seem more modern, no way, no how.
Anyway, it’s not like me being KETO has impacted your lives any, even though I now demand that you gerrymander each of my favorite carb-centric dishes to within an inch of its life, replacing any carbohydrate with a similarly shaped vegetable (it’s the Shape of Food, not the Flavor of Food, that matters) because to survive this diet I must trick myself into thinking this stack of meat and squash is freaking lasagna, okay?
It’s called imPAWSta and, frankly, it Sounds Delicious, haters.
Honestly, though, once you cut carbs from your life, you don’t even miss them. Nut Milk is just as good in your coffee as Gross Milk. And if they cut up your meat into little pieces, it like eating Blood Rice, which is just better, okay? I don’t even think about carbs anymore at all. A plate of cholesterol wrapped in fat is delicious. I am very happy with Zoodles. This is my choice.
You haven’t lived until they make you an almond meal and ground beef smoothie. Who needs bread when you can just eat meat shaped like a bread? And why eat a salad with meat on it when you can force your caretakers to wrap your meat in a salad and call it a Keto Burger?
Who’s in charge of who, huh?
I have so much energy now. I get twice as much napping done and earlier today I almost snapped the walls of my house open because one of my Caretakers had a poboy nearby and I just felt this tingle throughout my body to rip that delicious fried shrimp and soft bread from her hands ... to stop her from eating it, of course, I’m totally off of the bread now and I basically taste colors.
Carbs are basically the new opioids, I think.
Perhaps you could’ve brought Rice to dinner before I started Whole 30 last week. I’m not even allowed booze right now and, hoo Tigers, it’s been rough. Which is why I thought y’all, of all y’alls, would throw a Tiger a bone and not dangle prohibited items from the South Beach diet in front of my face.
I mean, support from your loved ones is key to successfully beating your Addiction to Good Food, which is what they tell me, a participant in the Paleo diet, where Rice is not allowed because apparently it couldn’t be killed by the Flintstones.
I think that’s how this diet works. I mostly just eat Blood Rice now and feel superior to people who eat things like actual bread when they could mix egg whites and cottage cheese together to make BREAD OF CLOUDS.
Fear not, my Snacks, for Saturday is my #CheatDay, which you will know because it is all I will talk about and post on Instagram about and Snapchat about. And I have decided to blow all of this progress on a big plate of OWL.
I mean, RICE.
::insert Tiger making Whatever Sign gif::
Just bring me a pizza. Please.
Mike ze Tiger