Karmic Nightmare

I thank god for high fructose corn syrup and hydrogenated trans-fats. They transform mundane meal options into tasty treats and they are this country's best hope for keeping the Social Security system solvent long enough for me to dip into it before it goes bust.
I am no stranger to the glory of fried lard planks and pork fat smoothies but the doc says I have done remarkably little damage to my cardiovascular system over the years. Good genes he says.
Unfortunately, other health concerns require that I end my love affair with cattle squeezings of all kinds. In addition, cackle berries, yard birds and pig products are also on the chopping block.
It is beginning to look like fish might be my last best hope for retaining some vestigial connection to my hairy knuckled progenitors. That is a small consolation, as I do not consider fish to be a true meat product. It’s more like a scaly vegetable with fins and a vacant stare.
I’m sure a few years will be tacked on to my life span as a result. I’m just not sure how I feel about that right now.
Exactly how do you live without meat products? So far, only two weeks into it, I have become dizzy and disoriented, my eyesight has blurred, restaurants have become torture chambers, my testicles have shriveled in their sack and Jilly Bean has taken on the concerned demeanor of an emergency room nurse.
It is only by virtue of my extensive knowledge of levers and fulcrums that I maintain my husbandly duties.
I am living a Karmic nightmare.