Now Available In Your Goddamn Stomach
Curious as to the packaging, I went online to the Cinnabon site. You CAN purchase the Makara Cinnamon directly from the website. It’s $4.99 a jar. Jenny and I have been dumping this shit liberally (and by liberally I mean pot-smoking transsexual abortionist liberal) on our cinnamon apples for about two or three weeks, and we’ve barely breached the top of the jar.
Here’s a new recipe for joy und love to be spread:
Cut up a Granny Smith apple into wedges. Core it first, fucktard.
Douse with lemon juice to keep them from turning brown.
Sprinkle the slices with Makara Cinnamon until they’ve turned brown. Alright, that’s way too much. But go to town on these little bitches.
Spread a healthy heaping dose of Skippy Natural Creamy or Super Chunky peanut butter on the slice.
Go change your shorts, junior, because you just had an orgasm.
You’re welcome again.
Meat Pinata
Deliciousness and complacency are a dangerous combination. I was all set to cook up some eggplant parmigana with fresh mozzerella, and a little italian turkey sausage on the side for dinner last night. I got home before 5, and figured, Jenny will be home around 6:30, so I’ll just get started on it. After a little Zelda.
An hour and a half later, there I am, trying to get to the middle of the Goron dungeon, and the front door rattles. Jenny coming home from work. I smile sheepishly, and explain how I wasn’t sure what time to make dinner. She says she wasn’t feeling well anyway.
Well, this gets my brain a thinking. We happen to live down the street from one of the best BBQ joints in the Valley, if not all of Los Angeles, The Swinging Door BBQ. It’s Texas style, and I’m more partial to Carolina style, but I like me some brisket. So I say, well, why don’t I go and get some BBQ. I’ll walk, that way, I’ll at least burn some calories.
Jenny sits and plays Super Mario World, while I go to get the BBQ. I order the Super Combo, 3 meats and 2 sides, because I knew the second I walked through the door, we’d be sharing the meal. It’s the classic girlfriend ruse: I don’t really want dessert. Then half of it’s gone before the fork is up. So when you start eating faster, like you may overcome your half, the fork gets jabbed into your hand. All when she didn’t really “want dessert” in the first place. I’m on to your game, you goddamn culinary charlatans!
(Jenny actually always offers to split things. Due to my retail existance, I constantly try to wolf everything down in 15 milliseconds, and I never share fair. I always try to take more than my share. She is right to stab me with cutlery.)
Anyway, I toddle my ass through our barrio to the Swinging Door. I figure, well, they said 20 minutes. I made the walk in ten. And the food was already ready. Hot damn. I love it. I walk back, attempting not to get flattened by a bus or tractor trailer, or fall off the log and get eaten by a crocodile. Ribbit. Because if a car hits me, I would totally explode with fat-laced meaty goodness.
Now, I ordered the brisket, the tri-tip, and the pork sausage links. I get home, and sure enough, it’s brisket, tri-tip, and baby back ribs. Every time they do this to me. I don’t know why they have it on the menu if they don’t do hot links. But they think, this dude wanted sausage. Obviously, ribs is a fair trade. Even if they are delicious. I want some now. Bastards.
In my mind, they don’t hold a candle to Uncle Hogly Wogly’s Tyler Texas BBQ. They even trump JR’s down towards South Central. Uncle Hogly Wogly’s have HUGE platters of meat that are retardedly expensive considering the coronary you are going to induce. The funniest part, is the leftovers are literally dumped into a plastic bag with all the juice and sauce, and wrapped up and handed to you. A clear plastic bag, like you’d use for produce. Fantasticly disgusting. It’s probably an accurate depiction of the inside of my stomach.
Ah, well. By sharing the platter, we both ate a decent portion, and it was well worth the walk. I still have yet to satiate my craving for burgers. If lunch today wasn’t so goddamn scrumptious (smoked turkey on sourdough with kraft american singles, shredded lettuce, fresh tomato, and dill pickle. With a side of everything bagel chips and sauerkraut. Made with love assembly-line style.) I would hit up Beeps.
I’m actually craving mini-burgers. That’s what I want. If not for the tainted patties spoiling in our freezer, the day would be mine. But I really would like four White Castle size burgers. Don’t get me started on White Castle. Wexler and I drove fucking an hour south on 78 when returning to Boston one year just to stop and buy the suitcase. That’s 40 burgers, friends. Which we proceeded to just scarf the entire ride to Boston. That’s progress, my friends.
I suck as a vegetarian.
If Pac-Man Ate Like a Fattie
Feeling much better. Ah, what a difference a weekend can make.
I’ve been playing a lot more Wii lately, as I got back into The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. I hadn’t gone far into the game, only now have I actually gotten the 4th heart container. So for you Zeldeadheads out there, you know that is woefully lax. But you have to swing the Wiimote to actually swing the sword, so more often than not, I feel like I’m going to break my “spankin’ hand” rather than actually get a workout. However, I do sweat profusely whilst playing so that is something. It’s no Wii Boxing workout, but it’ll do pig, it’ll do.
We’ve pretty much gotten back on task as far as what we can eat. We’ve also found out that perhaps our intestinal discomfort was not necessarily the bad eating habits, but perhaps it was E. coli or salmonella. The big ol’ honkin box of frozen burgers we bought at Sam’s Club turned out to be recalled. We discovered this after eating almost half the box (like 10 patties). So when that fucker says Master Cleanse, it takes out the nasties for sure.
My Wii Workout will have to suffice until this next week. EA Playground has not arrived yet, but should today or tomorrow. And my brother, in an unexpected move of complete and random generosity, decided to give me an early Christmas present, and has mailed me Guitar Hero III for the Wii, complete with the guitar. Hot damn, is all I can say. That’s coming late this Wiik.
I looked into the gym by our house, the Powerhouse Gym. It’s going to cost $100 to join, and then it’s about $49 a month with a year membership. Which means, if I quit, I pay a $150 cancellation fee. Fuck that. I guess I will have to continue to seek out a wonderful gym for which to join. I’m trying to talk my boss into fronting the initiation fee. For the purposes of “medical benefit”. I just liked the gym because it was empty and had a lot of cardio machines. Also, it taught free boxing, and cardio kickboxing classes.
So now that I’m gobble, gobble, gobbling, I’m waiting on Jenny’s birthday to start the South Beach. I have the feeling I’m going to keep putting this off for various reasons: thanksgiving, holiday dinners, kwanzaa. Which is why I’m working on a workout. Something less video game based.
Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down
Oy. I can barely talk today. It hurts so bad. Supposedly, even though the fires are miles away, the ash may be what’s causing all the respiratory distress for me and dear Jenny. She called out of work today, because at her place of employment, they have this novel concept of sick days. You know, so you don’t come in and spread disease to your fellow workers, and do mediocre and often slaggard work because you are in agonizing distress. They’ve leapt right into the 19th century.
Meanwhile, back at the sweat shop, I’m here, cranking out invoices half-assed, and forgetting myself and answering the phone, where I sound like some sort of diseased urchin. I can talk in my normal register, but it fucking hurts.
Ah, well. In about 1/2 an hour, I’m up and fucking out of here. I just don’t want to have to try to make up 8 hours of work in a week. I’ll just stay late two days and all will be well.
I just want to be tip top for the Halloween party tomorrow night. It promises to be a hoot.
Shiddie Wok
On the road to recovery, occasionally we reach for the cigarettes and flip the fucking car into a snowbank.
I was picking up my Halloween costume pieces at a store down near our old apartment, and so I took the laundry to our old laundromat. (No, I’m not going to tell you what I’m going as, because it’s going to be a surprise, and yes, the pictures will be fully worth it. I think this has potential to trump everything, and it’s not even particularly original). I hadn’t eaten, and since Jenny was home sick with what is no doubt fucking up my day today (some sort of sinus congestion/sore throat anomaly), I had free reign. I decided to go to Wok to Go, our favorite little laundry place. Normally, Chinese food entails an egg roll, hot and sour soup, and two entrees to split. Trying to be health conscious, I opted to order just one entree, the Sweet and Pungent Chicken. It’s basically spicy fried chicken with broccoli served with rice. Thrilled with the Red Sox game and score, I just sat there, slowly doling out a few pieces of chicken and some broccoli, dosing it with soy sauce and eating. Before I knew it, I had eaten almost the entire order.
My stomach felt about on the verge of explosion. The food wasn’t tainted, far from it, it was spectacular. But I guess my full-o-meter wasn’t working, because I ate slowly, and it didn’t go off. But my god, I wanted to die. I packed up the laundry and drove home, where I laid on the couch next to Jenny, both of us trying to talk the other one into being the suicide in the murder-suicide pact.
I prefer to blame my lack of immunity on the Master Cleanse, but I won’t. I guess I’m just sick. It’s probably a combination of the smoke in the air, people at our respective places of employment being ill, and just coming off a brutal body cleanse that our bodies are more likely to get the ol’ asskickery.
Feeling like hell. But, man, is Chinese food delicious. And it wasn’t even the super delicious Frontier Wok Too.
I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass
So I think I’m going to try to get back into shape. I’m getting EA Playground for the Wii, which is essentially a game that involves lots of playground style games: dodgeball, tetherball, wallball. You know, all the games that gave you a reason to physically, and occasionally sexually, assault your friends with playground equipment. (How many assbruises did you have in the shape of a tennisball?) This will tide me over until I can purchase the Wii Fit, which is actually a workout routine for the Wii, and it comes out later in the year if not early 2008.
My next step is to possibly learn yoga. This is something Jenny has been on about for some time now, and I wholeheartedly support it. Yes, it’s weird hippie stretching, but what the hell? I mean, it can’t hurt being more flexible.
There is a Powerhouse Gym up the street from us, across the airport, and I think I’m more of a gym workout type guy. I’m used to just running laps, or just riding a bicycle. Sure, I can probably do the same workout at my house with my freeweights and just by running around the block. I would prefer to do the workout at some sort of track if possible, but if not, I’ll take the workout style. I want to do this. I want to not get winded from basic tasks. I used to be physically fit.
Freshman year of high school, I wrestled at 125. That means within 6 years, I doubled my physical weight. DOUBLED. Not gained 80 pounds. Gained an entire ME. That’s horrifying. I’m short, but I’m built like a shaved gorilla. I know if I worked out, I’d be a fucking beast. I could tear phonebooks in half and shit. I used to do martial arts. I have my black belt in American Karate, which is like a yellow belt anywhere else. My dad taught me some aikido moves. I want to go back to being awesome again.
So I think I’m going to learn capoeira. I always bring this up. This has been a fleeting desire of mine for some time. There are classes, they are available, and they are designed for all ages, sizes, and experiences. I want to wait until I’ve reached some sort of mild conditioning, so as not to have a heart attack when I do it, but now I’ve got a goal. I want to get into physical conditioning to take the capoeira.
Then I will kill you all. Kumate!
Slowly Going Bulge
Well, the need to feed constantly is slowly subsiding, and the weight is steadily staying sedentary, if not creeping up just slightly. I’m well below 215, which was all I was hoping to achieve during the cleanse, and I’m not eating that much. I can probably eat less.
We haven’t gone all out on dairy yet, but I feel this is going to change for me. I just miss cheese. I really, REALLY, want a quesadilla. But I can’t possibly see myself eating an entire quesadilla anymore. I feel like I could eat one, and not be hungry for the rest of the day. Or I could split it with Jenny.
I feel like I’m close to the South Beach phase. I will probably go into that after Thanksgiving. I just like potatoes too much. However, if I South Beach right up to Thanksgiving, and then just cheat on that day, that’d be great. However, now we’ve got Halloween candy to contend with.
I feel like if I start doing smart portion control, and just eating healthier, and possibly start a workout regimen, I will be in the best mode. I don’t need a lot to keep me running during the day. And I’m not doing coffee or soda anymore. I can stay awake without the caffeine. Go figure.
EA sports just came out with EA Playground for the Wii. Also, Guitar Hero is a wonderful way to burn a lot of calories. Or maybe even Donkey Konga. I should totally see if I can obtain a Konga and set of drums over eBay. It was such an awesome game. Part of me is a little embarassed to be basing my workouts on video games when I’m pushing 30, but you know what? Fuck that part of me.
I don’t want to grow up. Wiiiiiiii!
Get In My Belly!
So in a fit of unrepressed hunger, Jenny went to California Pizza Kitchen and got us two salads, one a Cobb salad with rosemary chicken, beets, avocado, bacon, and tomatoes; the other a Mediterranean salad with sundried tomatoes, cucumber, kalamata olives, and hummus. There was bread with butter.
Holy Christ, was it the best tastiest stuff ever. It was the most wonderful thing I’ve eaten.
Until I had sauerkraut. Sauerkraut, raw organic sauerkraut, is so tasty, I can’t believe it. It’s salty, it’s sour without being too sour, and it’s crunchy. We’re adding it to the lettuce wraps tomorrow. We’ve essentially got our meals for the next three days, with the pastas.
To add to the delight, we finished up the night with dark chocolate almonds and dark chocolate edamame. So goooood. The food is so good. I can’t believe how little I eat, and how good it tastes.
The next step is cheese. CHEEEEEEEEESE!
Fatty Got A Schpanking
I think I’m essentially off the Master Cleanse. The only things left are adjusting my body to meats and cheeses. I’m pretty sure I’ll be up to snuff by the end of the week. At least, before the big Halloween party! Alcohol in the system ought to be interesting.
I’ve put a lot of thought into how I feel about the Master Cleanse. Was it worth it? Should other people do it?
I lost 16 pounds in 12 days. I lost 4 inches off my chest and 4 inches off my waist. I lost 2 1/2 off my hips, and about 1/2 off my neck. (So now I can button collared shirts. Yippee!) And I lost 3 pounds this weekend, sticking with the vegetarian diet. Which means that has the potential to make me lose more weight than the cleanse itself.
I still however crave bad food. I want to eat all the gross things I wanted to eat before. I have to stop myself from overeating. I have to physically restrain myself from eating another bite.
However, I proved to myself I can go 10 days without consuming anything but disgusting lemonade. I proved I have the spiritual stamina to withstand that urge. Whether that was always there in me, or if it was something I developed, it is there now. And I know I can tap into it.
I’m able to eat less at each sitting. I don’t need as much to be full. I find myself eating a whole bunch of smaller meals. If I eat too fast, or too much, I get extremely sick to my stomach. But since I’m eating slower and less on purpose, it’s fine. My lunch today is spread out over like ten hours. I feel like a filthy Frenchman. I had to scarf my juice glass of orange juice, a half a banana, and about 10 grapes. I felt like I was going to explode. Later on, I’m eating three of those AMAZING asian lettuce rolls, the cinnamon apples with peanut butter, a bowl of the udon and vegetable soup, and a bottle of strawberry-banana smoothie. That’s going to get me through until dinner. Which I’m making (Chef Boy-R-Meeeeee!). It’s going to be spiral pasta with roasted garlic pasta sauce, and a small salad of beefsteak tomato and chopped-up crudite with some sauerkraut and possibly a sourdough rye crisp. Dessert will be more of our dark chocolate roasted almonds. Holy jesus. We ate six last night. Just six. We put them in our mouths and just kind of savored them. It was so good. And since dark chocolate doesn’t have milk in it, it’s easier to digest.
I crave food, and I’ve learned to savor it. I like to eat even more, and it tastes better. It just does. Also, I’ve developed the ability to repeat better. I don’t mind eating the same thing over and over, because I’m only eating small portions of it, and I’m eating a variety of foods. Which is good, because I’m going to be eating a fucking assload of vegetable soup. Seriously. For like a month.
I don’t feel any better necessarily. I don’t feel healthier or more mentally acute at all. I feel good because I survived it. I feel good because I went through it, not because of the effects it had on me. It’s like my body got a spanking for eating like shit, and now it’s being better. It’s not because of, but in spite of.
They say that some people have to do the cleanse three or four times until they reach their nirvana. Fuck that shit. Fuck nirvana. Fuck the Foo Fighters, fuck Filter, fuck Courtney Love. Just fuck all of that. I don’t think I will do the Master Cleanse again. If I do, it’s not going to be for a while. I cannot possibly see why someone would do this to themselves more than once a year, and for longer than 10 days. After 10 days, I wanted to die. I was ready to eat our goldfish. I was ready to make crayon drawings of greasy food and eat it. I did not like how I felt while I was on it. I went through bursts of energy coupled with absolute doldrums. It was always the same time of day too.
It was what I assume WWII was like. You keep plotting what you’ll do what you get back to the states. I’m gonna marry my girl, and get a job at the factory, and buy me a farm, and eat me some of Mom’s apple pie. Meanwhile, the Lemonazis are bearing down on the trenches, and all you want to do is break through, survive, and get home.
Maybe it gets easier each time. Maybe it gets better every time you do the cleanse, but I don’t want to find out. I put away the bottles, and I’ve banned citrus fruit from our house. I had to douse the apple slices in lemon juice so they wouldn’t go brown, and I thought I might cry.
Do I recommend it to other people? Yes. Yes, I think if you feel like your body needs to detox, if your digestive system needs a reboot, if you feel like you need a bit of spiritual boot camp, if you feel sick to your stomach when you eat, if you just want to freshen up your diet, then yes, yes I think this is the thing for you. But know what you are getting into, and make sure to see a doctor. You can’t take pills on it (Though supposedly people still take the birth control pills with no ill effects, so who knows? Stanley Burroughs believed that nobody should take vitamins or medicines ever. Just drink the lemonade, boys and girls. You’ll live to a billion. Swear!) and if you already have ailments, it might inflame them. You will feel like shit, and the first few days you have to pee and poop all the time.
But you will feel better afterwards. Whether because of, or in spite of, remains up to you and your body. If reading the bulletin posts has taught me nothing else, it’s that this thing does totally different stuff to different people. If you do drugs, if you’re a heavy drinker or smoker, if you already eat healthy, it’s going to have different reactions. I mean, look at Jenny and I. We did this, and we had both totally experiences. I don’t think she’s planning on doing it again either, or not for several years at least. She’s going to maintain with some occasional weekend water fasts.
Me? I’m-a eating the shit outta some pizza burgers.
(Oh, and just because I’m stopping the Master Cleanse, I’m still going to keep updating this with my dietary experiences. What I ate, how I’m feeling, what I’m weighing. My goal for the remainder of this year is to get down to under 200 pounds and keep it there through the holidays. My ultimate goal is two-fold: a) get down to 150 pounds, which is actually what I’m supposed to weigh for my height, and b) be physically fit enough to run an 8 minute mile and bench press 1 1/2 times my body weight (225 lbs). Which means, I can lift fat old me over my head and run around the block with him. Now THAT’s a victory lap!)
For You Goddamn Herbivores
DAY 12 — Evening
ASIAN LETTUCE ROLLS
Julienne the following vegetables: celery, carrots, jicama, cucumber, red peppers.
Place in a large tupperware dish. Pour in teriyaki sauce (the roasted garlic kind is the shit) and soy sauce. Add some crushed ginger and sesame seeds. Cover and shake, then let marinate for at least 15 minutes.
Take marinated vegetables and place in top half of romaine lettuce leaves. We use the lettuce leaves as a low carb taco shell. Fold the romaine in half, roll up the sides so you have a tiny lettuce burrito. Dip in soy sauce. Eat.
You’re welcome.
