Rory and Lorelai Gilmore are known for basically three things. Their pop culture references, their bizarre obsession with each other, and their incredible metabolisms.
The pair doesn’t know how to cook so they are always ordering takeout/eating at Luke’s. They eat pizza, burgers, pizza, or Chinese food for dinner and lunch. For breakfast, it’s donuts, pancakes, bacon, Pop Tarts, or copious amounts of cereal. They avoid salad like I avoid people and interpersonal relationships. I mean, what?
If you go over to their house during movie night (gross, get outside) you’ll find marshmallows, cheese puffs, tater tots, Red Vines, and probably every other kind of sugary snack you can think of, including but not limited to sushi candy. (Which they made one time for a slightly racist “Asian Party”.)
Plus, they consume INSANE amounts of coffee and completely dismiss all forms of exercise. This all sounds like a great lifestyle to emulate, right?!
After becoming anxious that the possible leader of our country would be a pussy-grabbing Cheetoh in human form, I thought “Why not? We’re all slowly dying anyway.” Then I shrugged, tried to fashion a noose out of my shower curtain, failed, and got to work on eating like a Gilmore for a whole week.
The basic plan was to consume as many shitty things as I could at any interval in the day and only when I’m truly hungry and/or running late for class at Chilton.
So, here’s what it looked like:
Cereal: I chose the most sugary ones available, so I had your basic Froot Loops, your Cap’n Crunches, and your Lucky Charms. I ate a few bowls of this every morning except for two days wherein I had:
2-3 strawberry poptarts instead with several cups of coffee. I’M GOING TO LIVE FOREVER.
On Wednesday, I had a donut.
I couldn’t really find a “Luke’s” type diner and didn’t really want to step inside of a “diner” anyway so I made my own burgers, sandwiches, and fries. Sue me! I did that for basically most of the week, but I’m not going to lie to you, by the third straight day, fries were kind of weirding me out. (What is a fry???) For the other few days that I didn’t have this for lunch, I opted for hellllllllllla dope-ass snacks. Chips, Cheetohs (to celebrate the presidency!), gummy candy. I did not have a single particle of lettuce. Oh, and I also had leftover Chinese food.
I had takeout two nights out of the week, but that’s all I could muster. By the end of the day, I would start to feel pretty fucking ill. For two nights, I sobbed into some Ben & Jerry’s. The other nights consisted of leftovers and, fucking of course, pizza.
^^ This is a bit much, no?
Honestly, I drink a lot of coffee anyway, so this part wasn’t hard. It was hard, however, to find a surly man who ran a local diner to give it to me. So, I had to make it myself. I stopped keeping track of the amount of cups I had per day but lets say it was somewhere between 5 and methamphetamine.
The results were honestly inspirational. By the end of the week, I felt accomplished, but like I was going to die. I lost no pounds, but gained so much perspective. I am blessed.
No, I’m fucking with you. I gained two pounds, which is upsetting because I’m always trying to lose 3. These woman are fucking savages. Not only would it be impressive if they could stay that thin eating all this shit, but how are they able to form coherent sentences? By day three I started telling people I was on some new heart medication so they could stop worrying about my jittery hands and beady eyes. You’d think living off junk food would be fun and freeing and a way to say “fuck the system!”, but actually, it’s nauseating and may have given me permanent chest hives.
Rory and Lorelai—besides the fact that you are not real and this diet is clearly hyperbole—I don’t know how you do it. Respect.