Last month I had dinner with Stacy and she looked more beautiful than ever. Generally speaking, I prefer my friends to maintain a steady level of beauty and not surpass it because who needs to deal with Excessive Glamour, but whatever.
“What the fuck is going on with you?” I asked.
And she told me that she’d been doing a cleanse, lost a lot of weight, feels better than ever, has more energy and some other nonsense that I had to drink a lot of Sohovignon Blanc to drown out. (Yes, we ate at a place that served Sohovignon Blanc. It almost makes you miss the Prohibition, except it’s really good.)
So we went on with our evening and then I went home, and after saying my nightly prayers, went to sleep.
I woke up enraged.
Why should Stacy be all cleansed and I be sullied?
I emailed her and demanded the cleanse information. And she, not immune to my skills of cross-examination, told me that it’s called the Clean Cleanse.
So now I’m considering it. Because don’t I want to be cleansed? Don’t I want to lose weight and be fabulous?
I immediately went on Twitter to get a medical opinion.
“What about organ failure?” someone asked. Which was a good point, because organ failure is really the last thing I need right now.
But then I thought, why should my organs fail? Aren’t my organs winners with a can-do attitude?
And the program is super expensive, so it’s got to be good and medically approved.
On the one hand, I want to look fantastic and feel great and be healthy and on another, I’d miss coffee and wine.
I’m thinking of starting it after Thanksgiving.
One year ago ...
- My Fake Life - 2011