Me Want Food!

Good news. Tooty’s transplant was successful! With my laptop restored, I can tell you my story without having to sit in a chair like a human, which is annoying and frankly a little hoity toity for my taste. I prefer to sink into my couch like a sloth on a benzo binge --perfect  for my indolent finger tapping.

Blah, blah, blah, transition.

On Tuesday, I went on a juice fast where I consumed nothing but fresh vegetable juice, vegetable broth, water, and tea. A lot people do it for days or even months!!! at a time. I however, as a rule, tend to be very weak- physically and emotionally. I’m pretty much constantly on the verge of tears and shitting my pants.  So I figured 24 hours would be good enough to flush out whatever toxins have set up shop in my fat cells. If there are some left afterward, fine. I want them there. I’ll personally hand out t-shirts to them that say “I Survived the Fast.”  

But anyway in the morn’ I used my juicer to turn carrots and celery into an umber sludge.  Sucked it down like a motherfuckin’ Dyson and lazed in front of the wonderbox to watch a comely little wood sprite play doctor. Little known fact about Dr. Oz:  On weekends he flies home on the back of a ladybug to a hollowed out stump in the bosom of the Turkish forests, where he lives with his life-partner, Temel, an overly- emotional, sometimes jealous, but really very giving cricket who wears a bowler hat and plays the mandolin. 

After Dr. Oz, I finished up the editing I needed to do without further injury to the computer. I was sort of sluggish and thinking a lot about food, but that’s me every day.

I took my dog for a walk, which was fine at first, but when I got home I felt like I had power-squatted around the block, instead milling around with my shih-poo. When I got home I flopped on the couch, sort of like a dying fish, except one that’s given up. One that knows deep in its gills that life is ultimately meaningless, especially for a fish whose lot in life is to be processed and reformed, along with its brothers and sisters, into a perfectly square Filet O’ Fish patty. Where’s the Fishenstein family reunion this year? In my belly! Haha!  

Ok so I flopped on the couch like I was about to be made into crispy golden fish-toast.  I then closed my eyes and well, I don’t want to call it napped. It was more straddled the line between life and death. I mean dumpster babies get better naps. Let me explain, babies are notoriously bad at staying asleep. It would be like times a thousand if said baby was in a dumpster.

No. I’m not being dramatic. Seriously, withdrawing from delicious processed food (eg Toaster Strudels) is nearly as bad as withdrawing from heroin. Side note: I don’t know what eg stands for but I’m pretty sure I always use it correctly. Points for me!

I had so many aches and pains, I felt like I was a used Toaster Strudel icing packet. Get it? You have to squeeze the shit of those things. It would hurt. C’mon I know you know. 

So I was all achy plus I was starving. And I was sort of delirious and Oprah was on and she was shouting about Australia and so I decided to go to Whole Foods to buy veggies for vegetable broth. It turned out to be a mistake. I’d never been to Whole Foods but I shouldn’t have been surprised to find it full of yuppies staring at me with their slightly concave, overly white eyes that they have, whiffing past me with a self-satisfaction one can achieve only with producing shit that’s 100% organic, stiff anglo hands white-clenching their baskets, bird bones flush against sallow skin. Yeah I know I get angry when I’m hungry, but apparently also a little paranoid. I swear to Flax Seed that everyone was giving me frackin’ googoo eye. She’s not one of usssss. They were all whispering it like the healthy, judgmental snakes they are. 

Also. They had free samples.  Every where. Creamy goat cheese. Crunchy whole wheat crackers. I wanted to smash that shit like it was Rihanna’s face. Aw shit- little dated I know. I’m going to give Whole Foods another chance. I’m a lot more accepting towards humanity with some food my belly.

I was hungry and scared so I grabbed some vegetables and got out of there. I don’t exactly remember what I bought, but I wouldn’t be surprised if in reality I just went out into the alleyway and grabbed some old tires to throw in a pot. 

I let it simmer for an hour, falling asleep again for a bit. Anyway the broth was fantastic. Glorious even.  The best thing I’d tasted all year (besides toaster strudels). And so I was all sort of full of energy. I went to go pick up a friend and we watched movies and then that’s when it started. The coughing. Could not stop.

Awful bone-rattling tuburculer nonsense. Ridiculous. Phlegm everywhere.  And there was heinous pressure on my chest. It was incredibly difficult to breathe and when I did, it sounded like someone opening the screen door to an abandoned farmhouse.  

Good thing the movie we were watching was Stomp the Yard 2: Homecoming. I managed to get the gist of it over my body imploding upon itself. 

I’m pretty sure I got bronchitis. I could hardly breathe the next day and the coughing continued for a bit. The moral of the story is this: Don’t stop eating Toaster Strudels.  You might die.