Dangerous Juice Cleanse Thoughts

Easing into the world’s dumbest diet.

Right before a juice cleanse, you will feel optimistic and excited. That will quickly spiral into manic rage and, eventually, exhausted-sob crying. Please read my juicing experience so you’ll have a precedent for your ungodly behavior during your cleanse.

It’s recommended that you do a 3-day cleanse for maximum results. If you’re a little bitch baby like me, you can start with a 1-day and try a 3-day in the future when you’re wearing pampers. Like, literally. The longer the juice cleanse, the more you’ll shit your brains out.

Here’s the purported benefits of the cleanse I bought:

Weight Loss
Stress Release
Improved Sleep
Mental Clarity
Gain Stamina
Radiant Complexion

Why did I do this cleanse? All of those reasons. I needed a factory reset. Since I didn’t come with a button or plug, I gotta do it this way. I prepared my bathroom for a maelstrom.

Juice shops usually have several cleanse packages based on what you want to get out of them. I told the nice, sweet, hippie girl, “I want to lose 10 pounds by Monday.” After she stopped hyperventilating, we came up with a tailored 1-day cleanse that will let me survive a day without food. It goes like this: orange-colored juice, green-colored juice, berry smoothie (lunch), a sweet green-colored juice, purple garbage-flavored juice, and ending with a banana smoothie (dinner).

Here’s how it went down for me:

Friday 9:30 a.m.: No coffee. Cool, first juice of the day! It’s got orange, carrot, turmeric, lemon, lime, and ginger. It was a bit spicy. (Turmeric and ginger, what upppp!) Mostly it is pleasant. I wouldn’t order it in a restaurant, but I wouldn’t turn it down if a super hot guy tried to sell it to me. I finish it in half an hour, taking water sips in between, as my burps burn my esophagus. An omen.

Friday 11:00 a.m.: Green juice: Kale, cucumber, celery, apple, spirulina, chlorella. I’m drinking my second juice already because I’m STARVING. Normally, I’d have eaten a bagel sandwich by now, and I am not really doing so well. Blurred vision, headache, and my co-worker asks me a question to which I answer, “Can you…later? No.”

I can’t FUCKING WAIT to annihilate that smoothie. Looking back, this is the hardest time period for me, right up top.

Friday 12:00 p.m.: I drink some highly caffeinated mint tea because I am a zombie. My brain feels like it is trying to come out through my eyeballs.

The longer the juice cleanse, the more you’ll shit your brains out.

Friday 1:00 p.m.: Lunch smoothie! It is a purple one: blueberries, raspberries, dates, banana, and spring water. This is pretty yummy, and I savor every mouthful. Spoonful, spoonful, drink water. Repeat. I keep saying to my coworkers, “Yeah it’s great; I feel great!” And while it is tasty, it definitely has that healthy shit vibe that takes it down a notch. I get through it, but at this point I’m seriously considering just eating the granola bar in my bag.

Image via gybgiib/VSCO

Friday 3:00 p.m.: I MAKE IT TWO MORE HOURS WITH JUST WATER AND MORE TEA! I don’t honestly know how I’m alive at this point. My stomach is gurgling, but the maelstrom in the bathroom has yet to brew in my digestive ocean. Why am I not having belly pain? Am I that clean already that I have nothing to purge? I have two more juices ahead of me, and a banana smoothie. I can do this. We can do this, guys!

Friday 4:00 p.m.: Almost time to go home. I bust open that good-good. That “Sweet Tunes” as they call it. It’s green, it smells like a happy forest, and it’s got apple, celery, cilantro, cucumber, kale, lemon, parsley, and zucchini. This is a tasty one, but for some reason smelling all that healthy shit enraged me. People drink this shit every day? They eat healthy and live this life every day and never worry about illness or diarrhea while you’re out? FUCK YOU, HIPPIE HEALTH NUTS! FUCK EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR!

Friday 4:10pm: The juice is gone and so is my will to live. One more juice, one more smoothie.

Friday 6:00 p.m.: My lover gets Thai food delivered and then slinks away to the bedroom to eat it where I can’t see it or smell it. Smaaaaaart. Very smart. I’m on edge. I smell everything, and I have one more juice to go before my smoothie. It’s purple. I check the ingredients on the side of the bottle: purple cabbage, apple, beet, carrot, and lime. This sounds disgusting. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. I take a sip, close my eyes, and remember that if I throw this thing, I’ll have beet-flavored glass shattered all over my kitchen. I take a couple more sips. My beautiful, thin, model roommate comes to the kitchen to talk.

“I can smell that from here!” she says. I burst into tears. Then I gulp water.

Friday 7:00 p.m.: Everyone wants to go out. But where? Should we Uber? Who’s drinking?! Not Adrienne! She’s on a juice cleanse (idiot), and she can’t eat or drink alcohol (moron). She can drive! Oh, wait, she looks too weak and angry to drive. Uber it is!

I take a small dab of some Tangie (super sativa) to try to boost my energy. The juice chick didn’t say anything about not smoking marijuana. My Uber driver tells me if I want a car that has internal lights, I gotta get the Ford Fiesta or Focus. Cool, thank you. Please don’t talk to me right now I hate you for no good reason.

Friday 9:00 p.m.: I’m at a bar in NoHo. Everyone is congratulating me on my recent engagement. I’m clenching my teeth trying not to bite their heads off. I. AM. SO. HUNGRY. At least this bar only has drinks and no one’s eating. I had a couple of sips of beer, but nothing that would affect my cleanse. I’m in this to win it. Win what? Who the fuck knows. I wanna be thin. I drink more water. My smoothie is waiting for me at home.

Image via seoung/VSCO

Friday 11:00 p.m.: Cool, now we’re at a bar that serves food! Really, really amazing food! I close my eyes while standing in a drunken conversation and take a whiff of my surroundings. Smells like tapas. Somehow, you can tell it’s not big dinner foods, but many, many small plates of hand-crafted perfection. I smell truffle oil. My eyes snap open. My friends are looking at me like, “You okay? Can you please leave?”

Someone asks me to come upstairs and dance. I shake my head no at her. I can’t give you my all tonight. My buddy is DJing, but I just finger wave as I’m leaving. That smoothie is calling my name.

I burst into tears. Then I gulp water.

Saturday 1:00 a.m.: We finally make it home (drunk people are like mewling kittens), and I’m coming down from my dab, too exhausted to spoon a smoothie into my mouth. I drink a bunch of water and go to bed. (I brushed my teeth. Calm down. I’m not gonna give you my full life itinerary.)

Saturday 10:00 a.m.: My fiancé makes breakfast, but I drink my smoothie. I guess that makes this a 1.5 day cleanse and you know what? I’m into it. I feel satisfied after the yummy banana smoothie (banana, dates, vanilla, sunflowers seeds, mango, pumpkin seeds, and spring water). I don’t feel the need to eat again until fully dinner time. Even then, I ate less than I would have. And then Sunday I ate less than I would have, even though my mother-in-law brought over Jello cake. (Fuck you, I know you’re trying to fatten me up so your son won’t marry me! Jk JK JK.)

I do feel like I’ve reset myself. And my waist feels thinner. But I also understand why people go away (FAR AWAY) on meditation retreats when they do cleanses. You’re not fit to be around other humans (that you care about) for many hours.

I didn’t have the rush of shits that you hear about, but the precious juice chicky let me know that when I’m ready for the big kid juice cleanse that will happen, and it will change my life.

Damn, can’t wait for that.

Repurposed with thanks to Kindland.

Adrienne Airhart is an L.A.-based comedian who is maybe a little too obsessed with linguistics, psychedelics, cannabis and aliens.
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