I’m Cantankerous, My Body Odor Smells Like Lemons, And I’m Tired Of Sam Jackson Yelling At Me!

My Experience With The Master Cleanse
All the single ladies should master cleanse!
Much has been written about the Master Cleanse. Google it and roughly 3,950,000 results come up. Health food gurus, nutritionists, and celebrities like Beyonce have raved about the health benefits. Friend of friends of friends have talked about how much weight they have lost or how their skin looked amazing afterwards. I don’t need to loose weight and my skin is supple, like a newborn baby. Ok, maybe supple isn’t the correct word, but I do have good skin and I take care of myself. So why would I want to partake in this cleanse?

For starters, I have been eating like a beast lately. Even after a good solid meal, I would continue to eat and eat and eat. Then of course I would go into a food coma, take a nap, wake up, and feel bloated, which turned me into an unproductive asshole for the rest of the day. So I decided it was time to clean house, and periodically I like to challenge myself, just to see if I can do something; like when I ran the half marathon in SF back in 2010 with no training. My mother gave me a weird look and said,” Why do you need to detox? You eat healthy.” My father asked if it was something you digest or if it was an enema, I told him it was the former. Both of them think I’m a little off, but that’s fine, I’m an artist so they’re used to it by now. 

Here is the recipe:
10oz of filtered water
Fresh squeezed lemon juice, ½ lemon per serving
1/10 tablespoon of organic cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons of organic grade B maple syrup
Six times per day for ten days.

Optional ingredients include laxative tea and no iodized sea salt.

Yup, that’s it. For the next ten days this is my diet. Either it will be incredibly beneficial, or one of the dumbest things I have ever done. 

Day 1:
The flavor of the concoction isn’t as bad as my taste buds imagined it would. After every deep tissue massage, I drink at least a gallon of water mixed with freshly squeezed lemon juice to flush out the lactic acid that was trapped in my muscles. The thought of consuming massive amount of lemons is something I think I can handle, although I’m not sure how I will feel day number five, but for now I think I can handle it. There have been a few rumbles in my stomach during the course of the day, but aside from that I feel normal and my energy level is good.

Day 2:
After having gone to sleep at 11:30pm, I wake up around 7:30am, very confused. Number 1: As most of you know I’m a night owl. I’m a, “I do my best work late at night, rarely ever wake up before 1pm,” kind of guy. So waking up at the same time birds do is just weird for me. Number 2: My dreams were more vivid and strange than normal. Sadly I can’t recall them, but I do know that somehow George Washington and goat were involved.

First president and friend to goats. Not that way you perv!
Normally I would either eat an egg or make some oatmeal, drink some water, make some coffee, run errands, then come home, paint, eat some lunch, then get back to painting until dinner time. But as my stomach growls and contours I snap back to my plan, shake the cobwebs out of my head, make myself a drink, and get to work.

About 7:46 am I start to have severe, severe, cravings for the above mentioned egg, and oatmeal, and coffee, mixed in with a burger with fries, and a tuna fish sandwich, and brussel sprouts etc. It’s like I have turned into a pregnant woman! 

So to vent, I shoot a text to my friend Jesse Vasquez that says,
"This is bullshit, I’m about chew my arm off!” Jesse has done the master cleanse before and raved about it, so when he mentioned he might do it again and that we should partner up, I agreed. So we exchange a few texts than at 9:33am he shoots back, “Yeah, your body doesn’t know what to think, Hang in there pal!” So I do just that, make another drink and do some more painting.
At 9:43 am, Jesse breaks my heart with this series of text messages:
JV: Holiday Party! NOOOOOOOOO
Me: I know we picked a horrible time
10:28 am
JV: Shit. Do we need to reschedule?
Me: Tough Call
JV: I’ll let you know what happens at this party
JV: Let’s shoot for January (included is a picture of what looks like a cup of soup, a chicken breast, spinach, mandarin oranges, and slice of bread)
Me: You go straight to hell sir!
JV: Ok I’m back on it now 

So unless Jesse gets back on the Master Cleanse horse this week, it’s just me. And I can’t blame him; I probably would have caved too. And granted, picking the holidays, when so many parties are happening with so much yummy food around, is a HORRIBLE time to start the master cleanse. But I started it, so I’m going to finish it; and what would I do with all this lemons anyway? However, if I’m this hungry, and it’s only day two, I’m not sure I can make eight more days! 

Day 3:
I painted until 4am and awoke my usual time of about 12pm, just as hungry as the day before. But I have to return a book to a friend so I don’t have time to dwell on my hunger. And Jesse is off the cleanse, so I’m alone in this unknown wilderness of detoxification. It’s a quick shower and quick drink mix and I’m off to have my will power tested; we’re meeting at a café that’s joined with a noodle shop! 

It was a really tough meeting to get through because I feel like my sensors have been enlarged by the lack of food in my stomach. EVERYTHING IN THE CAFÉ LOOKS AND SMELLS INCREDIBLE! During the course of the meet up, I was of course focused on the great company and conversation, but the aroma of the coffee, the steam rising from the stainless steel soup containers, the smell of the chocolate chip cookies that bring back wonderful childhood memories, all of it was making me salivate to the point of almost drooling. 

I wasn’t feeling nauseous, but I felt like my brain was vibrating and being surrounded by so much food was only amplifying that vibration. I tried to imagine what it would feel like if a bee was somehow trapped in my head, bouncing off the inside of my skull, the buzzing of its wings making every synapse and neuron overload. Basically my brain was telling me, rather yelling at me, “EEEEAAAAATTTTTT SOMETHING!” But I knew this would happen, so I can’t really give in. 

I was however beginning to loose faith in the “cleansing power” of this recipe. The last solid meal I had and solid bowel movement I had was early Monday morning. I had expected that once the food stayed out and the master cleanse came in, I would be constantly visiting the toilet. Urinating yes, but the “other” not so much.
That was until about 5:30pm today.

I’ve had more impressive bowel movements before, some that were so monumental I had to call a friend about it, but this one, for not having any solid food in almost 72 hours was remarkable. I actually said out loud, “ I can’t believe that was inside me.” It’s estimated that the average America has about 10 pounds of undigested food and fecal matter lodged in their digestive system, which prevents the body from properly absorbing nutrients from food and prevents one from losing weight. Not that I need to loose weight, but the less fecal matter I have just lounging around in my colon the better.

Day 4: 
A.N.I. D.A.F. aka All Night I Dream About Food!
Call it a by-product of living in America, but as far as I can remember, I can’t recall ever having such vivid dreams where all I wanted to do was eat. Even when I was in Chicago on food stamps, twenty pounds lighter than I am now, I don’t ever recollect dreaming about being hungry. Now as soon as sleep overtakes me, food is front and center. It’s not the desire of food that’s torture, or the fact that I’m only eating subconsciously, but the master cleanse has diet has now tunneled into my dreams! 

Whenever I’m about to take that first bite of my mother’s lasagna, or feel the crunch of cooked asparagus in my mouth, or taste the deep, smoky, sweet flavor of Ethiopian coffee my dad has just poured, the master cleanse muscles its’ way in and says, “ Hey what the fuck are you doing? You’re not even half way motherfucker! Don’t you quite on me!” 

And for some reason in my dreams, the voice of the master cleanse sound like Sam Jackson. 

Imagine you’re surrounded by sweets, like you’ve been transferred to a real life William Cotton painting. You’re about to indulge you’re sweet tooth, after all you’ve been good, this is only a dream…

Will Cotton, PASTORAL, 2009, oil on linen, 60 x 72 inches

Then Sam Jackson shows up!

Not ordinary, everyday, just going to Costco to buy bulks goods before he appears on Jay Leno Sam Jackson. I’m talking about the black suit, white shirt, chrome polished .45, weird afro/jerry curl combination thing going on, “Do not even think about fucking with me “ look in his eye, Ezekiel 25:17 execution scene from Pulp Fiction Sam Jackson! 


Say what again! So what one more goddamn time!
“Hey, what the fuck? I will kick your Ed Norton, Hugh Grant looking’ ass all over this cotton candy world if you take even ONE bite of that mother-fuckin' cheesecake!”
Thankfully, outside of my dreams, it’s been far less traumatic. A networking event I attended today with luscious food and booze was rough, but I made it. I’m almost over the hump, so the tough road is more or less behind me.

Day 5:
Having conversations with people over the phone, as well as in person, has become difficult for me. I find that I’m tripping over my words more than usual, even this blog entry had to be edited three separate times because of horrendous spelling errors and sentences that didn’t make sense. You know you’re not operating on all cylinders when you can stump spell check! But I feel physically fine and the painting I’m working has kept me focused. Here are progress shots by the way:

Almost there...

The new direction of leaving the tattoos behind, incorporating collage, and getting more painterly feels good. Two other paintings like this are on the assembly line, ready to go, so stay tuned for a future blog entry about that!

Day 6: 
“It’s so harmful to starve your body like that. You’re already skinny, what are you trying to cleanse for?” A woman who is a registered nurse told this to me. It took me a few seconds to process what she said because we were in a club and the music was at ear shattering volume. Then she spilled her drink on my leg, grabbed some napkins and tried to wipe it up herself. And I let her because she was totally my type: long curly black hair, dark eyes, killer smile, curvy in all the right areas, and olive brown skinny. A total babe. So much so, she could have been the mayor of Babesville*. 

*She's actually the Mayor of Babesville. 
We made some small talk, I made some jokes, she laughed, touched me unnecessarily, and I thought it was going well. Then she used the old,” I’m going to use the bathroom,” escape route line that women use when they are no longer interested in talking to you. For a second I thought, “Cool, I’ll just chill here, try not to go deaf while DJ Douche-Bag, or whatever his name is plays, some shitty house music. Upon her return, maybe we’ll pick up where we left off… perhaps there will be some more leg touching and some hot make out action in the future!”

Nope. Perhaps she wasn’t flirting with me at all and I had just misread the situation. Once I realized I had been dismissed, and the fact that I hate yelling just to have a conversation with someone, I knew it was time to leave. I made a quick phone call outside, came back in, said my goodbye to the birthday girl, told the hot nurse it was nice to meet her and instantly knew I made the right decision to leave because she didn’t even look at me when I shook her hand and told her goodbye! 


“Whoooaaaaa Jeff! Take it easy,” you might be thinking. And you’re right. I’m just venting, I’m just letting off steam, some ladies will like me, and some won’t. I don’t view women as cunts. I know you’re reading this mom and I’m sorry for using the “c word”. But this lack of nutrients has made me really irritable and I’ve been like this all day!

mmmmmmmmmmmmm cookies!
Before I arrived at the club I hit a few art events friends were having, and these events, of course had food. The first venue had among other things, chocolate chips cookies, which as I stated above, I LOOOOOOVVVEEEEE! Near the end of the table next to the cookies was a cute little girl, maybe six years old who was enjoying EVERY-SINGLE-BITE of her cookie. 

 “Mommy, mommy this cookie is amazing!” 

Jesus Christ kid, do you have to rub it in?

Even though there were plenty of cookies left on the plate, I wanted to give her a body check like they do in hockey games, snatch the cookie from her tiny hands, and smoke it like crack cocaine!

All that cookie goodness gets in your system faster if you smoke it!

Do you see what this master cleanse is doing to me people? I’m contemplating smoking a chocolate chip cookie! I think in order to survive this ordeal I have to isolate myself until it’s all over.

Day 7:
This is it, I can’t take another three days of this torture; I don’t care what the perceived health benefits are. I’m cantankerous, my body odor smells like lemons, my joints hurt, I can’t think straight, I’m tired of Sam Jackson yelling at me, and this roughly 600 calorie a day diet doesn’t give me enough energy to do anything. I’m tired when I shouldn’t be, and that to me is warning sign numero uno.
“Hooray, now you can eat!” Not so fast. 

I have to ease back into my regular eating habits, which means that solid foods are off the table for a few days. I have to start off with lots of water and orange juice, transition into soups, then fruits, maybe a salad, then pasta and so on. My old favorites like a Mountain Mikes large pizza with pepperoni, black olives, and mushrooms, will be off the menu until January. 

Post MC Wrap Up:
Having never attempted something like this before, seven out of ten days feels like an accomplishment. Do I feel any healthier? I’m not sure quite yet. Perhaps time will tell. My pants fit the same, I don’t look or feel any skinnier, and my skin looks about the same. But I do feel more upbeat and focused, like I’ve cleansed some of the poisonous thoughts and scenarios that have plagued me recently. I’m not sure I would recommend the master cleanse to anyone, but I’m glad I did it for as long as I did. I wish I was a stronger writer that could come up with a more profound, poetic way to end this post, but all I can think about is how much I want a carnitas burrito, with a small bottle of Tapatio, and an ice cold Negro Modelo.

Forget a huge party with overpriced drinks, I’m celebrating 2013 with a burrito!

Don't worry my sweet, we won't be apart much longer!


Anonymous said…
LoL... This doesn't sound so good. -Sunny
Anonymous said…
Anonymous said…
Who knows the name of the babesville mayor?
Anonymous said…
What's the models name you used for the mayor of babesville?

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