In health news today we look at this so called Paleo diet. The idea is to eat like our ancestors did from thousands of years ago, which is a lame way of saying we need to cut out all of the modern frills that make things taste good. Why stop at the Paleolithic Era? Why not go back a million years when our evolution was really taking form? What could possibly be more filling than a few beetles and a bamboo shoot or two? This reporter asked prominent dietician Dr. Del Icatessen what his thoughts were on the latest fad diet. “Any time you limit the intake of a food group you are asking for imbalance. I believe in moderating all things before eliminating one thing. Why push man back past the dawn of agriculture?” Certainly, all diets demand a large measure of self-control, will power, and discipline, which is why this reporter prefers to just stay fat. Besides, who wants to be responsible for layoffs at Ben &Jerry’s? Not this guy. Don’t put that on me. The invention of the strawberry milkshake is one of mankind’s greatest achievements, we can’t just undo that.
Further investigation into man’s regression doesn’t just involve dietary practice, politics, and Justin Bieber. An even more disturbing trend involving age regression in adult males has been uncovered. Now we’re not talking about the age old “mid-life crisis” here. This new regression has little to do with sudden appearances of sports cars, earrings, and sexual encounters with women far younger, no folks this reporter is referring to the “dress like you play little league baseball” fad (gasp). The trend became overwhelmingly hard to ignore when attending West Coast League baseball games this year. It is customary, and even expected, for the kids in attendance to wear their little league uniforms to the baseball games in order to look like their heroes out on the diamond. It also seems to be customary, and infinitely creepy, for the fathers of those children to dress in the same little league attire. Now we’re not talking about a sweatshirt that says “Mikey’s Dad” across the back here. No, faithful readers, we’re talking about a full size version of that child’s uniform complete with warm-up jacket and matching wraparound sunglasses (worn over the hat-not on the eyes-and backwards). Nothing says “I’m proud of my son’s accomplishments because I never had any™” like being a 6 foot tall, 200 pound doppelganger of a six-year-old. And nothing says “when I played tee ball I struck out looking” like seeking your son out in the crowd of his friends to ask if it’s okay to go get ice cream after the game since you’re not on a fad diet.
Stay strong people, and enjoy the summer.