The Yogurt Monologues (Part II)

It has been two weeks already into my diet.

Okay, it’s been less than two weeks; but I’m home now with a ligament injury and the combination of bran and red plums in my system are doing funny things to my head. However long it has been – it’s still going strong.

Being home today has given me a chance to really absorb* all that I have learned about this beast dieting. I am beginning to understand the mechanics of my own body and bodily functions better and how it all ticks. Most suprisingly is that it is completely possible for the human body to function without Haagen-Dazs, cheeseburgers, or Tim Horton’s double-doubles. Who knew? In fact, I am learning together all too much about my body and its functions.

For instance, since I have been eating more raw natural foods as opposed to fast food, I am now beginning to drop more regular solid turds. And I’m not talking about all those usual 2-second greasy Hershey squirts I normally pass I’m talking about enormous spires of earthy-colored crap here. Turds to make circus elephants proud. Every time I go to the bathroom now I have to clear my entire afternoon schedule. Bring a book, enroll in a college correspondence course, whatever, I’m not coming out for a while. It’s like I’m admitting myself into a Maternity Ward each time I feel my stomach rumble.

“Congratulations, Mr. Nash. It’s a turd.”

Besides this, I am also more conscious of the color of my urine. Yes, you read that correctly.

Usually, this is an aspect of my life that I would prefer to remain oblivious to. I figure I’m not alone in thinking this otherwise they wouldn’t put those flyers above the urinals at bars and restaurants. I’d just about prefer to look at anything besides my own stream of piss. Now, since learning that your urine’s clarity indicates the effectiveness of your body to clean itself out, I am fixated on noticing on how well I am flushing myself of ingested toxins. Not that dropping elephant turds isn’t enough. But now because I am consuming enough daily liquids to make any Bande Ache survivor more than a little anxious, I also have to piss like a racehorse every 10-15 minutes. This I don’t really mind this so much as any chance I get to fondle myself during the normal workday is an enjoyable experience. But I digress…

Unfortunately, by the time this whole new healthy lifestyle of mine completely takes over I will be able to detect over a dozen of different shades and hues of yellow. I’ll make any Interior Decorator seem almost colorblind.

But then again, considering the condition I return home in after my evening walk means that I am growing very accustom to fluvia. After 60 minutes of Nazi death marching around town in my stretchy fat pants, I’m sweating like the pig that knows he’s dinner. In fact, in a complete 24-hour period, my body now produces enough fluvia to top off any landfill. I live in a perpetually moist state. Aquaman isn’t as moist as I am these days.

Yep. Shit, piss, sweat, snot, what have you - so my day goes.

But even better than all this heady bodily goodness, the real fun in dieting comes, as usual, from other idiots who like to offer advise. Just like with being single, every moron with an opinion likes to chime in with his or her two cents on the subject. It’s enough to drive you to murder. I even had a guy that was easily three times my size tell me about his guaranteed formula for quick fat burning.

Yeah, I can see where that program is really working wonders for you, there, Shamu.

Why does everyone automatically assume that they are fitness experts? People with asses that look like they are shoplifting throw pillows are even drawn to offer me their pearls of dieting wisdom. From diet pills and prescriptions **, to grapefruit, to soup, to oolong tea – I’ve heard it all recently. My two personal favorites of such informational dieting tidbits are “eat smaller potions”, and “make sure to treat yourself regularly”.

Pardon?

Apart from the obvious, what kind of stupid advice is that? Isn’t that how I got in this fucking condition in the first place? I mean, maybe, just maybe, if I hadn’t been “treating” myself so much or helping myself to smaller portions all along I may not have had to put myself on this fucking diet in the first place! But thanks for the advice, dipshit.

One aspect of dieting I am still trying to get a handle on is that of making healthier decisions when it comes to eating. So far, I am doing well. No fast food, no carbonated soda pop, no overly fatty foods, etc. But lately, I have also been developing these random unusual cravings for stuff like…asparagus!

Good, God! It’s like I’ve been possessed.

It’s not a natural instinct to choose green beans and avocados over cheeseburgers. Where’s the dignity in that? I’m supposed to be a man, for fuck sakes! Men are supposed to eat red meat…not salad. You know who eats salad? Wilford Brimley…that’s who! And you just know Wilford Brimley isn’t banging any young hotties these days.

(to be con’d…)

* Not to mention healthy doses of garlic humus.

** Including Dexatrim, Thermatrim, Ubertrim, Advantatrim, Dietrine, Ephedra, Ma Huang, and a whole host of other funny sounding vitamin supplements, carb blockers, and fat burners, whatever - its speed. Two or three of these little babies and I’d be running around the office place naked and babbling like a madman. But some people are attracted to these miracle diet prescriptions like hippies to their phat jams.