We don’t need your bloodwork — just your receipt.
That little strip of thermal shame says more about your discipline than any DNA test ever could. We’ll read it. Judge it. Roast it.
“Got a 36/100. Stung a bit. Fixed my cart.”
Jordan
Ex-Junkfood Fiend
“PDF said I was 3 yoghurts away from man boobs. Ordered the protocol.”
Alex
Reformed Cart Owner
“Voice roast told me to ‘clean it up’. Fair.”
Casey
Gluten Give-Up