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Move Your Butt. Don't Put Crap In Your Pie-hole. Could 2016 Be That Simple?

While I'm not ready to don a muumuu and become 'the girl with the good personality', hot dogs and devon sandwiches are back on the rotation. Along with broccoli, $7-organic avocados and those little red berries that give people superpowers. But I really don't want to talk about it anymore.
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Mountain Gorilla silverback male eating (Gorilla gorilla beringei), Kwitonda Group, Volcanoes National Park, Rwanda
Mary Ann McDonald/Visuals Unlimited, Inc. via Getty Images
Mountain Gorilla silverback male eating (Gorilla gorilla beringei), Kwitonda Group, Volcanoes National Park, Rwanda

"If you're starting from eating Doritos and Big Macs and you're, like, 'I'm gonna do a raw food diet and work out three hours a day', you're gonna crash and burn," wrote Josh Joseph -- author of 'Meat Is for Pussies'.

Well, there goes my new year's resolution.

The last thing the internet needs is another woman blogging about her diet. But stay with me. On New Year's Day I gave up dieting. More importantly, I gave up talking about food, after reading this article by self-declared crackhead-turned-health ninja, John Joseph.

Move your butt. Don't put crap in your pie-hole. Could 2016 be that simple?

We're a food-obsessed society. In 2015 we ate clean and lost our wigs over coconut water, and we've got the hashtags to prove it: 27 million #eatclean on Instagram alone. With two-thirds of Australians overweight, we're vulnerable to fad dieting.

In 2015 we learned of 'the new eating disorder' Orthorexia Nervosa, characterised by an extreme preoccupation with eating healthily. This week, a Gold Coast employer made headlines advertising for a "vegan personal assistant". Guinness is en route to become vegan-friendly. MasterChef's 2015 finale secured an audience of 2.7 million viewers, the show's highest ratings in four years.

Author of A Taste of Generation Yum, Eve Turow, explained our food fascination to The Atlantic: "I think that a lot of people in our generation are thinking about, "What am I going to eat next? Where am I going to go dine next? What's in the fridge and what can I put together tomorrow?"

I live with two Yogis who are forever milking almonds, blending mulch and unearthing muscles that haven't even been named yet. For a time I tried healthy on. I bought a Nutribullet. I strolled farmers' markets in big swooping sun hats and pressed nectarines. I ate 99 percent cocoa chocolate through gritted teeth. I debated the pros of millet versus buckwheat flour and thought, damn, I'd give all the date balls in the world for just one Jatz-cracker-cubed-cheese-cabanossi.

So I did.

I'm a lazy dieter. I've tried the 'eat-everything-your-boyfriend-does-and-gain-10-kilos-diet', the 'I'm too busy to cook, so I'll sit at the bar and tell you just how busy I am' diet, and the 'coffee and cigarette diet' -- also a good way to go cross-eyed at your desk. I once paid a stranger $100 to put a tube up my butt, otherwise known as a colonic. Remember that pepper and lemon juice 'program' Tania Zaetta from 'Who Dares Wins' endorsed? Yep, I've tried it.

While I'm not ready to don a muumuu and become 'the girl with the good personality', hot dogs and devon sandwiches are back on the rotation. Along with broccoli, $7-organic avocados and those little red berries that give people superpowers. But I really don't want to talk about it anymore.

After 10 years of agonising over food, or not caring enough, I'm back to relying on common sense. Move your butt more, don't put crap in your pie-hole. It's that simple.

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