I was bored and I thought, why not write a blog? My husband and one of our friends, MR, sat on the couch next to me, but they weren’t bored. They were happy because it’s bowl game season, so while I tried to write, I was forced to watch football. I don’t believe in football. It is against my religion.
MR told us about starting a lemonade diet cleanse for the New Year. You know, that thing where you mix together some lemon juice, cayenne pepper, maple syrup and water, swallow it, and then the mixture pours right out of your rectum. You don’t do it just once; you drink that swill all day for up to ten days, unless you die before then. If you last for at least three straight days, your intestines will be so clean you won’t even have to mix up a fresh batch anymore. You can just swallow it, hold the glass under your ass, and then drink it again.
Another great thing about this cleanse is that you get to drink more than just the lemonade. You start the morning with a refreshing quart of salt water. Just pretend you are at the beach. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t drinking salt water what makes people lost at sea lose their marbles? That’s why they stick to hydrating with their own urine. You also get to relax every evening with a nice cup of laxative tea. Who could sleep knowing they are going to shit an ocean in their bed?
I checked out the website which, in addition to providing a cockamamie rationale for this insane cleanse, also has a lot of testimonials from people who all claim to try this diet not because they want to lose weight quickly but because they want to clean their intestines. Excuse me? Clean your intestines? It’s not like your intestines are floor board mats or a wool sweater which require helpful hints from Heloise. Intestines are sort of self cleaning; they don’t require any assistance from you. How clean do you want them to be? So clean they are spotless? So clean you can eat off them? So clean they pass the white glove test?
I made a joke to MR after reading the website. I have since forgotten the joke, which sucks because it was pretty funny, but at some point I referred to his cleanse as the Mrs. Butterworth diet. MR said that would make a great Saturday Night Live skit, where a life size Mrs. Butterworth comes out, her hands together in a western style prayer position/ eastern style Namaste hands, and scoots around a kitchen table, and laughter ensues. I’d like to see that shit.
I watched the game for a minute and one of those pretty blond sports reporters interviewed an injured player on the sidelines. Behind them, in the stands, was this guy who realized he was on the Jumbotron, so he squatted down and waved so he can see himself on camera. What an asshole. It makes sense if a nine year old does it because he is just a kid. You, on the other hand, have a car payment and descended testicles. It’s just not that big a deal for you to be on television. People your age get television coverage all the time when their mug shots are featured on the local news. Just sit the fuck down already. And that old man in front of you agrees with me. Can’t you see how angrily he is chewing his gum?
While we are on the subject of football, could someone please hire a speech therapist to work with Lou Holtz? He sounds like Dick Clark. I could have sworn we were rocking in the New Year.
I asked MR if he was going to make it a full ten days on the Mrs. Butterworth cleanse. He said he would be lucky to last a day, which seems like a waste of perfectly good maple syrup to me. “Why not just eat some Chinese food? A little Mu Shoo pork will have the same effect and you only have to eat it once,” I said.
I appreciate his plan to try to get healthy for the New Year, but crapping yourself silly for a week or even a day doesn’t sound like the way I want to start anything. But if it works for him, well, then good for him. At least he is doing something. Me, I think I’ll stick with food, just maybe eat less of it. Instead, I’m going to give up watching football. That’s one resolution I know I will keep.
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