I’ve been hearing a lot about all these new cleansing techniques designed to, allegedly, help improve your body, mind, and even your spirit. Some people tend to need such things, not sure why. It’s not like we’ve run out of beer or anything. Still, who am I to judge? Maybe it works wonders. There are still many mysteries in the Universe. The holy feathered serpent knows, only a few souls have found the sacred light of our savor, Yig. May his name be hissed.
There are all kinds of detox/body/colon cleansings out there, such as: The Master, water, cayenne pepper, urine, and tape worm. All of these techniques advocate focusing on a particular food or liquid to the exclusion of all others. All this, in the hopes of purging the body of built up toxins. Of course this is all nonsense, but it makes people feel better knowing they are trying something. Besides, many probably enjoy the cozy feeling that comes from the slim hope they’re doing something good for themselves—which may explain vegan restaurants and gyms.
I, however, have decided to cut through all this crap and I am—with the aid of my good friend, medical adviser, and local barkeep, Phillip Brownhurst—planning on setting off for a whole month of beer cleansing. Yes, you heard it right here on the Daily Discord. Be the first of your friends to Like. No food or hydrating liquids will pass my lips, while my body focuses on purging such products from my inner core—while only throwing up once a day.
As this happens, in a wild Bacchanalian fit, I will embrace all this glorious Health Enhancing Ale (HEA!). I will save the ales as they have saved me from the distracting images that plague our modern lives. What insights, what revelations, what incontinence waits in store? I can hardly guess. I do know this: such a journey is not to be taken Bud-lightly. It is not for those weak willed, or lily-livered, or those unsure of what they will learn from their inner drunk.
I’ve also heard say, strange things exit the body during such detox periods…hey, there go my baseball cards! And I have been warned such trips are not without their own inherent dangers. The Ghetto Shaman advised me of some of the spiritual side effects of forgoing anything but hops and barley for long periods of time. For examples of this, see any Ghetto Shaman column.
My shamanistic colleague has embarked on similar ale-cleansing escapades, but many ended abruptly in some drunk tank or another. I will complete the work he has started! By the way, why do they call it a drunk tank if they don’t serve any alcohol? Anyway, Dr. Phillip has promised to drop by with a few joints and check in on me after last call, each and every night. He will check my vitals, palpate my swollen liver, while we kick back one last brewski for posterity. Can I get a “Hail Yig”?!
So I embark into the realm of Dionysus, Bukowski, Bacchus, Morrison, and Lohan…
No, don’t try to stop me. I need to do this. Not just for me, but for us, for everyone that has been inclined to not be inclined, bribed to be good and proper, or simply told to make something of their lives, or their livers. Stop living this lie and join me on my own permanent paid detoxification.
Yes, it is for you I fight! I fight for the right to throw it all away, forget your jobs, and just wake up! No, no, I’m not talking about enlightenment. Geesh. I mean, wake up whenever your hangover allows and start the day with a cold one. I’ll probably see the rest of those suckers heading to work, while I grab my pre-nooner six-pack (PNSP). In the end, those are the ones who will envy me. I’m talking to you Zano! Mr. Goes-to-Work-Most-of-the-Time!
I will keep you posted… Hey, did I mention you’re funding this experiment, Zano?
