Last year, idiot me did it again. I bought a gym membership. Every second year I get this wave of motivation. “This year,” I say, “this year I am going to get rock hard abs and sport a butt that Tammy Hembrow would be envious of.”
I have a confession, for a person that can live on beer, white chocolate, and two-minute noodles for a week at a time I have a strange obsession with healthy eating books, experts, and social accounts. With that strange obsession breeds a particular need to try something out after hearing it for months on end from countless sources. So low and behold, I invested $40 into purchasing a jar of powder. No, it wasn’t cocaine, it was bloody dehydrated bone broth.