According to SadDeskLunch.com, “62% of American office workers usually eat their lunch in the same spot they work all day”. Desperate to avoid contributing to this depressing statistic, I often eat lunch in my car. Sitting in my car alone and basking in this important victory, I choked down a sadder lunch than has ever been consumed at any desk: one Mango Pomegranate Greek yogurt.
Y’all might think I’m late to the Greek yogurt party, but let me assure you: I’ve been hanging out at this shitshow for at least 5 years now. The keg is empty, the toilets are all clogged, and I’m still fistpumping like a champ on the dance floor.
Ever since we Americans got our lard-smeared paws onto Greek yogurt, we have tried EVERYTHING in our power to suppress the natural “old sour cream ‘n’ vinegar” flavor of this demonic buttpaste. We’ve continually increased the fat content (of course). We’ve added fruit and sugar. We’ve added a sad foil cage of chocolate covered granola directly over the mouth of the beast, for those who prefer a crunchy texture when consuming the souls of the innocent.
These are all worthy distraction techniques for people who enjoy eating food that requires a distraction technique (I include myself here), and they help a little. But the most confusing gimmick is the one that I experienced today. I can’t say for sure what evil, #basic spirit possessed me at Publix, but I purchased the following item with the intent to consume it:
My lunch du jour is ~75% yogurt, ~25% “Mango Pomegranate” Fruit Jiggle. (Let me pause here and say that I am all for concealing Greek yogurt’s “flavor” with fruit. When I voluntarily consent to ingest the contents of the river Styx, I select a fruit-smothered variety.) However: WHY IS THE FRUIT IN ITS OWN CUBBY?
Is there a control-freak aspect here that I am just not understanding? Who is the person that purchases this yogurt because other fruit-flavored Greek yogurts have TOO MUCH Mango Pomegranate Distraction for his or her liking? Is it weird that I allow others to determine the extent to which my lunch tastes like a sheep’s asshole? Why do I continually attempt to polish this turd which can only bring me pain, heartache, and 2pm tummy rumbles?
Greek yogurt: Carly’s Not Into That.
my only explanation is that it adds an extra layer of distraction. they make these same weird pouches with granola in them, which inevitably gets everywhere BUT the yogurt when you try to flip it over. but, i still buy them, so….
p.s. congrats on starting a blog! i’m into it.
haha, that has to be it. “maybe if I think about spooning this shit into this other shit, I’ll totally forget what all of this shit tastes like!”? and thank you!! #MicaelasIntoThat
Hungry minds are thirsty for more of your thoughts on things like greek yogurt. Please bless us with your wisdom!
Stop hating on our business. Greek Yogurt is the best thing since sliced bread.
Our mission? A yogurt in the hands of every man woman and child on earth.
– The Yogurt Consortium
I remember the good old days of Dannon’s Fruit on the Bottom Yogurt. The “fruit”, which was comprised mostly of that syrup at the bottom of cans of peaches and the like, was so much better than the bland yogurt that rather than mix it up, I would just scoop out the yogurt and toss it so I could focus on the fruit.
And that’s why I’m fat.
“Demonic butt paste” is my newest stolen phrase. A gem! (and your description of the taste as old sour cream and vinegar is perfect)
This post is right in line with the Tumblr “Dimly Lit Meals For One.” Sharing the link, just in case you haven’t seen it. I don’t mind yogurt or kefir or whatever. But my husband takes issue with all of it. And like you, he needs as much fruity distraction from the Demonic Butt Paste as possible. http://dimlylitmealsforone.tumblr.com