An Open Letter

The following is an open letter to the weirdo church group I got stuck behind at lunch yesterday:

Dear Christians,

I use to be content to let you be. I use to think it was fine to let you go on believing the things you read in the bible, even though it would be like me thinking all those Dragonlance books I read in high school and college were real. After all, it's a free country. Right? We have the right to embrace religion, a religion, or no religion. But yesterday you crossed a line. No, not just A line THE line. You came recklessly close to ruining my lunch hour, and that is not something I can easily forgive.

Let's examine your wanton behavior. The first few minutes I was in line you were immersed in a competition to see who could name the books of the New Testament in order the fastest. First off, who gives a shit? Do you make it into Super Heaven if you have the stupid books memorized? Does Jesus say, "Sure you may have had premarital sex, lied through your teeth, and been an all around hypocrite all your life like most of my followers, BUT you sure know the names of the books in the New Testament so here's the keys to the executive bathroom. Oh, and FYI, you might wanna let it air out for about five minutes after Moses has been in there." Now normally I don't care if you are engaged in this type of tomfoolery. You're young. Enjoy it. But here's the thing: NONE OF YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WANTED TO ORDER. You could have been studying the menu while we waited in line instead of fucking around!!! That's what I was trying to do, but I couldn't concentrate for all your inane chatter. You got any fucking idea about, hey, it's fucking distracting having somebody reciting bible lessons in the middle of my fucking lunch hour? Give me a fucking answer! What don't you get about it? So by the time you got up to the front of the line I had to listen to "Umm....what comes on the BMT?...Can I get that as a meal for under six dollars? I only have six dollars....What about a turkey sub?" And that might have been okay if just one of you did it, but it was all seven of you!

I noticed that two of you ordered a six inch chicken teriyaki. I noticed because I had decided on a footlong chicken teriyaki, but when I ordered they only had enough teriyaki chicken for a six inch. I had to get half chicken teriyaki, half roasted chicken breast fillet. It's not the same! Then when my sub came out of the toaster I had to wait even longer because you were off looking at chips instead of telling the Sandwich Artists what you wanted on your subs. Seriously? It's the second time that you didn't give a shit about what is going on in front of you, all right? I'm trying to fucking order a meal here, and I am going "Why the fuck are those christians walking there? What are they doing there?" Do you understand my mind is not on lunch if you're doing that?

Christians, I'm fucking serious. You're nice people. You're nice people, but that don't fucking cut it when you're bullshitting and fucking around at lunch like that. Seriously, you and me, we're fucking done professionally.

Fast Results

So it's been a week since I experimented with the seventy-two hour juice fast, and I am sure you are all flaming...with curiosity about the results. I'll keep this short. I lasted forty-nine hours, which is about five times longer than I expected. I felt fatigued and fog-brained, had a horrible headache, and my blood sugar actually increased. Overall, I think I would prefer to keep the toxins in my system.

That is all. Now let us never speak of this again.

Keeping Myself Occupied

In a mostly futile attempt to keep my mind off food I've undertaken a few projects over the last few hours. In order:

- A forty minute nap. I didn't see this one coming. It just kinda happened.

- Read the first few stories in fragile things. Neil Gaiman is the most rewarding author during the reread there is.

- Scrubbed the kitchen floor. On hands and knees and everything.

- Took the remaining sugar cubes out of the box and counted them. Thirty-seven. Get this, though, when I put them back in the count only came out to thirty-five.


As I approach hour nineteen I feel a little bit better, but, man, is my mind muddled.

In Which I Feel Hungry And Sorry For Myself

When Angie was sixteen a nearly fatal combination of gull stones and pancreatitis landed her in the hospital for nearly four months. For three of these months she was fed intravenously and was allowed only occasional sips of ice water to moisten her throat. She tells me the hunger never truly departs, but it does subside to a dull roar. I asked her how long before she reached a point where she was able to ignore the hunger for maybe a few hours at a time. The answer was about three weeks.

I am a little over fourteen hours into my fast, and am experiencing my first true hunger pangs. Until now I have done a decent job ignoring my stomachs pleas for food. Sure, I was tempted while I watched The Other Andy attempt to eat those four giant pancakes (above) at Charlie Parker's, but the hunger wasn't as strong then. Now my stomach is no longer making polite requests, it is issuing demands. Its incessant nagging is interfering with my thought process.

And there is more. I have a horrible headache, and feel fatigued. Literature I have read online assures me these are symptoms of my body ridding itself of al those pesky toxins. Great. Not only are my internal organs harassing me with their cries for food; I also have to go through some type withdraw?

Oh well, only fifty-eight hours to go....

A Brief Word On Cranberry Juice

It looks like the hardest part of this whole fast is not going to be avoiding food, but forcing myself to down eight glasses of this cran juice over the course of the day. How do I put this delicately...It tastes like a mixture of antelope piss and elephant shit. The recipe is a concoction of water, unsweetened cranberry juice, cinnamon, ground ginger, nutmeg, orange juice, lemon juice, and Steiva which is an all-natural sweetener that costs six friggin' dollars for a box. I guess the Steiva helps fight back the bitterness of the cranberry juice, but it's kinda like sprinkling sugar on a dog turd. This is going to be a lot harder than I imagined.

And So It Begins

As I write this the clock strikes midnight, the witching hour, dead of night. Most of you are probably in bed or, this being the weekend, passed out or well on your way to said state. But not I. There will be little sleep for me over the next seventy-two hours for I have embarked on a perilous journey from whence I may never return...(insert dramatic music here)

Actually I will return. In point of fact I probably won't even complete this journey. As of, oh a minute and a half ago, I am on a seventy-two hour juice fast!

That's right for the next three days (or however long I last) I shall subsist on naught but water and a homemade cranberry juice. A minimum of sixty-four ounces of each.

Andy, this is stupid. Why would you do something as stupid as this, Stupid?

A good question. And you are right: this is stupid. Fasting is stupid, and fruitless (That was a pun, or play on words. I don't know if you noiticed)! There are a lot of people out there who believe the occasional fast is good for the body. They say when your body isn't busy digesting all the food you eat it can focus its energy on cleansing your body of all the toxins you absorb through processed foods, prescription and over-the-counter drugs, milk from secretly radiated cows, and so on. Apparently if you just give your body a chance to "detox" you will feel loads better.

I am not one of these people. I don't believe in detoxing, or colon cleansing, or any of that garbage. I certainly don't think depriving yourself of food for an extended duration will make you feel any better. I figure there's only one way to know for sure, and that's to just try it out for myself. I doubt I make it the entire seventy-two hours. Anyone who knows me knows how fond I am of food. But I will go as long as I can.

I plan to blog my experience throughout the whole process. I've neglected this page and writing in general over the last couple months, and this is a good way to get back into the swing of things. I'll also include some additional updates on Twitter which you can follow here. You don't have to have a twitter account to read the updates, but after seeing how awesome it is you will probably sign up. Unless you're a jerk.

I polished off a hearty meal around fifteen minutes ago so the hunger shouldn't kick in until breakfast time. In the meantime I have some cran juice to prepare.

Public Transportation Fun

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