Thursday, May 01, 2014

(I wouldn't call that small pimple a jerk. If that is a jerk, what I have on my face right now, cannot even be addressed by it's true name in this blog.
That's it!
No matter what my skin says, I am getting off the no-gluten train. I live in Italy, for lord's sake, land of pasta, bread, and pizza. I blame Gwyneth Paltrow for all the hype. Even my naturopata says that this trend of giving up gluten if you don't have celiac disease is not founded in anything concrete. Enjoy your mushy muffins, Gwynnie. I want to LIVE!

Having gelato only once a week is  a sacrifice I can live with in order to reduce my sugar intake, but enough is enough. These past three weeks without gluten have been the longest three weeks since sleep-away camp when I was eleven during which time I had to slop my fellow campers plates, I contracted lice, and I peed in my bed at least two different times.

I call this sculpture: Dolce & Gabbana in prison

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