Plogging

My friend Jules and I were talking about blogging about poop. I'd sorta documented my poop online prior hoping I'd produce a "poop tube". I'd ingested an insane amount of fiber, supplements, and juice fasted all in efforts to cleanse my colon. When it got around to day 12 and there was no sign of anal plaque exiting--I'd basically abandoned the whole poop log--or "plog".

I read this article about these two guys that went to poop spa in Thailand and ended up producing a buttload of gunk with descriptions like, "10 yards of licorice-like stands" and "a marble I'd swallowed as a child". Ew, right? Well, I totals want to see if there's anything like that inside my nethers. I can't really afford to go to a resort so I decided to do it myself.

This led me to a 14 day cleanse--of which you can read the exciting conclusion here. The Dr. who supervised my cleanse had glowing comments about her preferred colon hydrotherapists, "All is Well that Ends Well". Based on the name alone, I called to schedule an appointment.

Before you knew it I was plugged into a butt-flush chair she had a pet name for, I want to say it was "Linus" or something but it looked like this:
The coolest selling point about this particular colonic chair was the viewing tube. If you sorta looked down on the floor to the left a mirror displayed all the crap coming down 3 inch diameter clear acrylic tube. All I remember thinking was, "I should chew more."

For a couple days I tried to think of how to describe what it's like to take 30 watery shits in a new age medical office with a CD of beach sounds playing. I couldn't. Paddy, the colon-lady said, "Want me to put on music? Maybe something like pooping on the beach?" It sounded silly so I agreed.

In the end, all I can conclude is there might still be some hidden strands of stubborn poop nuggets just waiting to find their way to freedom. I'll keep you posted in the next installment of my plog.

Red Jellyfish and Strong Men

I'm on day 15 of a cleanse. Last night I felt like I was on Ecstasy riding a pegasus through the clouds. I was so freakin' delirious and out of my head like I was having an acid flashback. I also had a dream I ate an entire plate of McDonald's cheesburgers covered in nacho cheese.

Plus

=
Acid flashback

I shit you not. And it's not because my body's a temple and I'm hanging out with God in it. I've taken enough acid and put enough crap into my body to poison a baby manatee, which is very sad but true. My liver is having a primal scream session inside me and spewing out all the old junk back into my blood stream. I haven't eaten anything for about 2 days. Instead I'm drinking 64 ounces of Juiceman Juice. That's how those buff dudes like Jack Lalanne and Jay Kordich live to be a hundred and five. They drink juice, tow trains with their teeth and invent new ways to do push ups.

I think they also live long because they have names like "Jack" and "Jay".

So, what does your poop look like when you've been eating only vegetable matter for 2 weeks and juice for the last two days? Answer:


The natropath who's supervising the five of us ass clowns taking part in the cleanse tells me the euphoric feeling is natural. Basically, it's the body going into panic/conservation mode. Instead of feeling like your starving (which I did feel really hungry) the body will release pleasure endorphins to counteract the hungry feeling.

I've restrained myself from coming to a conclusion about cleansing. My mind's been pretty open to the outcome. I read testimonials saying "I feel great!", Oh! I have such clarity!" "I feel rejuvinated." lalala. Fuck yeah, I want to feel all those things. But, honestly--the whole experience was way harsh. Not on my bod but my nog. It was a total mind fuck. Cleansing for me was like a rollercoaster ride of emotions, anger being the mainstay, then sadness, irritation, and frustration. A few times I felt really good, then I just felt completely insane. The doc says it's good to feel all those feelings. It means it's working.

My main motivation for doing this is to get my shit together before I go to Japan next month. I'm looking forward to polluting my body with shochu, sake, ribs, ramen, and whatever else I feel like. Food's my heartthrob. So is booze.

I love wine and all other fermented beverages alcoholic or not. The cleanse taught me I actually do have self control. I can do a bunch of stuff without drinking. Even when it's a sunny day and I'm at the beach. I don't have to give into my impulse and chug Sparks. Or I don't have to drink when I do yard work, clean the house, go out to eat, see a show, go to a bar, or unwind. The past 15 days have been amazing for teaching myself about self control.

blog: only a blog

It's only a blog, man.

I got this nutty idea to start a regular ol' blog after journaling every single boring detail of a 'cleanse'. Nobody will ever read it, I hope. Who gives a crap about my BMs, ya know. In short the blog turned out to be a chronicle of poop, food and anxiety.

Then I read "Dear Diary" and lurked around and found Lesley Arfin's blog. I guess, I figure she's a lady of some reasonable amount of thought and creativity with an edge of integrity. There's no shame in blogging. It's silly and fun. Besides, I'm looking to fill up more of my time with writing in any form. I'm reaching out to find some other method to communicate. I'm looking for other ways to spend my time besides indulging in my second puberty. Pube-Two is basically learning how to be a functioning adult instead of hovering around like an overgrown angst ridden teenager working at a late twenties depress-o-thon. But hey! I am 100% for teen angst, don't get me wrong. I just don't think it's a place to unpack and build house. Forward moves.

I've been pretty adamant my whole freakin' life about paper and pen--journals, jottings, drawings, writing, pictures being tangible. I was an English major in school and a journaler from way back. I'll say this once and only once--there is something missing from this format, soul. That being what it is, fuggetabouttit it. Blogging is DIY and it's self publishing so, fuck it. Different is better sometimes.

So it begins.

Tonight I'm mega pumped about going to see Kids in the Hall!