The MILF Diet

Yes, this is a real book. You can even buy it — whether or not you yourself are a MILF who wants to go on a diet. Well, you will be able buy it on New Year’s Day, if you’re so inclined/suffering from a hangover. I got my copy the new-fashioned way, as an e-galley.

Yay! Free books, you must be saying to yourself. And in theory, I agree. But not this time.

By far the saddest thing I have ever read is the publisher’s eGalley disclaimer, which comes with the warning: “Do not quote for publication until verified with the finished book.” This disclaimer breaks my heart because, boy howdy, are there some quotable quotes within these pages! But I can’t use any of them, because that would mean purchasing the actual published book, which I’m not about to do, mostly on account of the title…which is, in case you’ve forgotten, The MILF Diet.

Seriously, what if I need to refinance my mortgage someday? I don’t want a loan officer to run a credit history and come back with, “So, how did you like The MILF Diet? Either way, I’m not sure I should trust you with a substantial sum of money. Loan denied.”

So I’ll paraphrase, instead.

Ok, so unless you’ve been testing your Doomsday Bunker for the past decade, MILF is a slang term, and not (in my opinion, at least) a very respectful one. However, this book insists that it’s actually a compliment, because — as we all know — most terms that arise from the primordial word soup of the Internet are complimentary in nature.

So how does one, to reiterate one of this book’s pressing questions, become a MILF?

The answer, according to this book, is to eat natural foods — including organic seasonal vegetables, whole grains, plant-based proteins, natural sweeteners, and something called “sea vegetables.” I know I’m not supposed to quote, but in this instance, I have no choice because I have no idea what this term means. Is the author talking about seaweed? That’s a thing. Or is this some weird euphemism for fish? That’s a possibility, I suppose. But then, why wouldn’t you just say “fish?”

(I would like to take a moment to point out that a sea cucumber, although it sounds like a vegetable, is actually an echinoderm, and thus an animal, and thus meat — i.e. NOT a vegetable.)

Anyway, once you source yourself some “sea vegetables,” you should stop eating the following: dairy, meat, sugar, and processed foods of any kind. Now, “processed” is another ill-defined buzzword, as most edible matter encounters some sort of processing on its way to your stomach. For example, flour — even the whole grain kind — requires grinding, which is a process. Vegetables, many of which require cooking in order to release their nutrients, are arguably processed. Short of plucking insects out of the air and popping them into your mouth, most foods that humans consume undergo some process or other to render them edible. (Otherwise, we’d all be sitting around gnawing on raw bits of forage while we slowly starved to death.) But whatever, I’ll play.

To sum up the MILF diet, you should eat food. But not the tasty kind, only the kind that will make people never want to invite you to any social functions in case they’re forced to compliment your homemade kombucha salad.

This may sound hard, but the MILF diet has many advantages: it will make time go backwards. The exact words, which can’t possibly be trademarked yet, are “turn back the clock” — which may or may not occur in a Superman-esque fashion.

It will strengthen your immune system, although how this happens is unclear. And unless you have a baseline for your immune system, how on earth would you ever know if its strength had increased?

It will even help you find your inner goddess, in case you a.) have one and b.) have sadly misplaced her somewhere along the way. AND it will inspire your DILF — I had to stop and think about that one for a second, and EWWW!* — to bone you, apparently.

Quick note about the author: again, without quoting — this lady is a chef and knows her macrobiotics, although I sort of thought the whole point of macrobiotics was NOT cooking? Also, it is apparently possible to be certified as a hypnotist — and not just for PG-13 office parties, but for childbirth. By the way, if I ever have a child, I totally want a hypnotist present — mostly so that, years later, whenever I say “antiquing,” my offspring will stop screaming at me, finish his/her homework, take a bath, climb into bed, and immediately fall asleep.

Which is some seriously dark sorcery, and not to be taken lightly. Indeed, by reading this book, you have entered a world in which the mere word MILF confers some miraculous, albeit nebulous empowerment, including:

sensitivity to vibrations (I am wondering if the author meant “vibrators,” which would save a lot of triple-A batteries, something the oft-invoked Mother Nature would approve of — not to mention whichever member of your household is always complaining that the batteries for the remote are dead.)

ok, f*ck the quote embargo, incidentally, because this gem is too bizarre to leave embedded in the text: “witchipoo intuition,” which is evidently a thing you get from being intimate with Mother Nature. Like a psychic STI, perhaps?

– you will stop using the left hemisphere of your brain, which is cold and logical like a robot — and, presumably, does not permit impulse purchases of books such as The MILF Diet — and instead operate entirely from the right hemisphere, which is creative and cute like a puppy. Now, I haven’t discussed this book with any neurologists lately, but I’m guessing that most would agree that you want BOTH halves of your brain to be operational, if at all possible. I’m sure Oliver Sacks could regale us all with tales of how certain individuals with half a brain have overcome tremendous neurological obstacles in order to achieve extraordinary things, but that’s not everybody. Not by a long shot. Remove half of a brain, and I rather suspect the result is something like this.

– “cruising at high MILFitude,” which, taken out of context, is something I’d have thought the hosts of Top Gear had made up. Just imagine this phrase uttered in Jeremy Clarkson’s voice. Then again, maybe don’t, because if you do, you’ll probably never want to have sex again.

– Which is just as well, because on MILF Island, sex becomes…unfathomable. No, really. Somewhere after the sentence “Sex changes, too,” the book stops making sense. (Also before it, but that’s another story.) If you thought you understood sex and how to have it, YOU KNOW NOTHING! So let this book enlighten you in all the ways ur doin it wrong: as a MILF, you will stop “focusing on the nish” (Not knish? No? Something else?) and instead…enjoy the sensation of dry-humping your DILF (??), which apparently results in your “opposite energy [fi?]elds collid[ing]???** This is because of a “mysterious” thing that happens in “Asian culture” — yes, all of it — called “yin.”

Here’s the official explanation:

“By being born with a set of ovaries, a uterus, and a functional set of boobs, you are a card-carrying member of the Yin club, and head pom-pom waver on Mother Nature’s cheerleading squad.”

Mind you, if you happen to be born without any of those things (and incidentally, what baby is born with functional and fully developed breasts?), TOO BAD! If you are born with them but lose them during life’s journey, ALSO TOO BAD. And if you are born with some, but not all of the above — or if you have all of the above and also some male bits, or if you are anatomically ambiguous in any way…AGAIN, TOO BAD! You can’t join the club.

Which probably makes you the most fortunate person on the planet, imho. This does not sound like a fun club.

Speaking of which, did you know that MILFy is an adjective? It is…but there are certain restrictions on its use.

For example, un-MILFy conditions include: osteoporosis, diabetes, heart disease, and any kind of cancer. Sorry, ladies — if you suffer from any of the above, we no longer want to hit that. Also un-MILFY? The “emotional roller coaster” that is the curse of womankind.

I’m going to pause for a moment to note I’m only on page 17…and yet, the WTF keeps on coming.

There follows an entire section that’s nothing more than garbled New Age claptrap masquerading as Taoism — and by “masquerading,” I mean, buying the cheap drugstore costume and pairing it with fishnets and stilettos before tottering off to a boozy Halloween bash as “Slutty Eastern Philosophy.” At the same time, the author swears that it’s all based on Science. Yes, with a capital “S” — that monolithic entity that serves as a ready-made alibi for any and all crimes committed against logic, empiricism, and/or critical thinking.

So, after a bit of playing “Science Says” (Did you know that boy brains and girl brains are different? That’s because girls are “expansive” and possess nurturing feelings whereas boys are like big, dumb, horny dogs that need to be trained how to love, not rape, and also not pee on the rug. It’s true, because Science Says!), the book meanders onto a diatribe against sugar and caffeine — you know, those dangerous substances that possess the awesome godlike power to reduce otherwise sane and functional women into weak, wrinkly, angry, anxiety-ridden, weepy, and stressed-out emotional wrecks in a way that thousands of years of systemic oppression haven’t yet managed to achieve?

Of course, it ultimately doubles back on itself and warns us ladies not to trust Science, especially medical doctors, who spend upwards of an extra decade in school learning about how the human body works so that you don’t have to, freeing up valuable time to spend reading The MILF Diet. The author’s rationale on why you shouldn’t trust your primary care practitioner? Because that person ISN’T YOU. Thus, they cannot possibly know what it’s like to be the MILF-y special snowflake that is yourself.

(The one flaw in this reasoning? The author isn’t you, either. You know what the author also isn’t, by her own admission? A doctor, a nutritionist, a mother, and arguably (I’m adding this via context clues), a rational human being…just a little whole, all-natural food for thought.)

Some final thoughts:

In case you were worried, the book goes to great lengths to point out that following the MILF diet won’t give your hair a “case of the frizzies,” because as we know, “the frizzies” are the worst thing that can ever happen to a woman. At least, if you’re a clueless hodgepodge of a self-help book with disquietingly racist, sexist, heteronormative, and transphobic undertones and a cavalier attitude towards cultural appropriation.

Ok, one MORE slightly disquieting note — by my count, at least half the people mentioned in the acknowledgements are deceased. Were they practitioners of the MILF diet? I guess we’ll never know.

Ultimately, The MILF Diet is a package of crazysauce. When the book says “It’s not rocket science,” it ain’t lying. Actually, it’s too modest — it isn’t any kind of science at all. But then, it’s called The MILF Diet. Did you really expect it to be?

*Dads are not people you should be f*cking. That’s your Mom’s job. Or, if she’s quit for whatever reason, your stepmother’s job or some Craigslist lonely heart’s job or even Internet porn’s job. Ideally, Dads are people for whom you care deeply, but by whom you are slightly embarrassed, particularly when they try to maintain an online presence or insist on going to Applebees even though there’s an amazing Thai place literally around the corner.
**Knew I should have taken paleography.
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