This Huffington Post article came from my friend Erin. I laughed so hard, I just had to share it with you. I do like Whole Foods. I really try to love it, but some things prevent me from doing so. Such as the 50 meter long aisle that sells you chips. Corn, tortilla, spicy, potato, kettle cooked, popped, fried, baked, lentil, you name it. The fact that they're sold at Whole Foods makes none of them any lower in carbs or sugar or help you lose weight. Most stuff in bags isn't going to make you leaner or more defined. The fact that you're spending $5 on it also doesn't help you lose fat that sits where it shouldn't sit, but it may calm your conscience and helps you think you're eating healthy...And so this article reminded me of the picture I took of the chips aisle at Whole Foods yesterday when I tried to find something healthy from the breakfast bar, that offers cinnamon buns, grits, "breakfast pizza", bacon and honey over yogurt. But that's another story entirely....
Here it goes:
Here it goes:
"Whole Foods is like Vegas. You go there to feel good but you leave broke, disoriented, and with the newfound knowledge that you have a vaginal disease.
Unlike Vegas, Whole Foods' clientele are all about mindfulness and compassion... until they get to the parking lot. Then it's war. As I pull up this morning, I see a pregnant lady on the crosswalk holding a baby and groceries. This driver swerves around her and honks. As he speeds off I catch his bumper sticker which says 'NAMASTE'. Poor lady didn't even hear him approaching because he was driving a Prius. He crept up on her like a panther.
As the great, sliding glass doors part I am immediately smacked in the face by a wall of cool, moist air that smells of strawberries and orchids. I leave behind the concrete jungle and enter a cornucopia of organic bliss; the land of hemp milk and honey. Seriously, think about Heaven and then think about Whole Foods; they're basically the same.
The first thing I see is the great wall of kombucha -- 42 different kinds of rotten tea. Fun fact: the word kombucha is Japanese for 'I gizzed in your tea.' Anyone who's ever swallowed the glob of mucus at the end of the bottle knows exactly what I'm talking about. I believe this thing is called "The Mother" which makes it that much creepier.
Next I see the gluten-free section filled with crackers and bread made from various wheat-substitutes such as cardboard and sawdust. I skip this aisle because I'm not rich enough to have dietary restrictions. Ever notice that you don't meet poor people with special diet needs? A gluten intolerant house cleaner? A cab driver with Candida? Candida is what I call a rich, white person problem. You know you've really made it in this world when you get Candida. My personal theory is that Candida is something you get from too much hot yoga. All I'm saying is if I were a yeast, I would want to live in your yoga pants."
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