Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
Last night I allowed rice to pass my lips. Rice and beans. Oh the shame! Oh the excruciating dishonor! It wasn't my fault, I swear, there was nothing I could do. I was helpless before the Devil himself (who took the form of a small Mexican man at Poncho Villa's. - again!). There was an order mix-up and my all-meat and avocado dinner was served with rice and beans on the side.
I was not able to resist temptation, and I fell upon the starchy and leguminous abominations like a pack of rabid wolves. Once the delicious ambrosia of Satan's seeds touched my tongue I was no longer in control of my corporeal being. Positively possessed, I pitched the polysaccharide plagues into my pie-hole until there was nothing but plate.
Coming around from my daze I slowly began to realize the horror of what I had done. I considered inducing vomiting, but that's so passe!
Waking up this morning I knew I was at a critical juncture in my noble paleolithic quest. I reaffirmed my mantra, restated my credo, hardened my resolve, and brushed my teeth.
Then I ate eggs and fruit, went for a punishing yoga class fraught with self-castigation. I considered practicing with broken glass in my undergarments, but demurred on the grounds that I sweat enough on the floor at International Orange without adding blood to the mix.
Lunch was salad. Salad with chicken.
My name is James Flynn and I am back on the Paleolithic Diet.
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