Hot Paleo People

by Marissa Maciel

Before cheese, ketchup, and steamed vegetables, there were the Paleo People.

Hot, sexy Paleo people with stunning Paleo chiseled abs and upper-leg cleavage. Tons of thick, Paleo hair piled on their thick, Paleo skulls. Paleo women had gorgeous breasts ready to feed strong Paleo babies, and Paleo men had no penis problems ever.

The Paleo diet kept their bodies looking fine and smelling like a pine forest, or a smokey cave, or maybe a salty sea watery smell depending on where the Paleo person made their dwelling. They hunted and gathered and ate their way to beauty.

Paleo men and women would live each day of their super-human lives basking in the glory of their feast-or-famine lifestyle, admiring each other’s bodies for no more than 35 years, tops. But until then they would enjoy all the red meat that the good Earth mother had provided them, as it swelled their arteries with honest to goodness Paleo cholesterols. Or, until Gaia’s bounty of fruit and berries and grasses suddenly died off in a freeze or was decimated by Paleo bugs — hot and strong Paleo bugs — leaving the gorgeous, taut Paleo people to starve and leave behind beautiful corpses to be buried or burned before the stunning and majestic Paleo predators sniffed them out as food.

Until! Oh, until one day when, as happens in the lives of every Paleo god or goddess, their teeth were ground down — looking as flat as their gorgeous stomachs — and all they could eat was the pulp of foods, starving until the darkness fell forever. When their torches were burned out and their bodies were made of nothing more than beautiful, sinewy tendons and sexy leathered skele-hands.

Though the Paleo people walk the earth no more, they would have surely been proud to know that one day, thousands of years away, their modern-day descendants would evoke their names for the sake of health and wellness. And beauty, don’t forget; beauty. Not the false-start of Paleo worship that befuddled people with Fred Flinstone or the “lost” cave man on Gilligan’s Island. Not the glamorous Paleo drudgery of Darryl Hannah or the “stares at helicopter with mouth wide open” Ice Man of the 1980s. This would be the True Glory of the Paleo Renaissance circa 2000 AD.

Raw and fresh and pungent! The Paleo Diet lives on.

Previously: The Kitchen of Tomorrow

Marissa Maciel writes, tweets and blogs.