Curtis Klingle

This actually occurred. I may have embellished a bit and that’s permitted if it enhances the story.

Dearest Chelsea,

After your encouraging testimony regarding the efficacy of “The Master Cleanser” I thought I’d too, give it a try. I listened to the short audio book and read the accompanying instructions. Per the provided recipes for the “Wash” and the “Lemonade,” I purchased fresh lemons, limes, cayenne pepper, maple syrup, sea salt, and made preparations to begin the “master cleanse” this morning. My thoughts were that I’d be off for the next couple of days, so why not give it a try?

Note to the reader: I am going to use military time in this documentary as this “cleanse” quickly turned into a full combat situation.

At 0800hrs I prepared the “Wash” which consisted of a quart of warm water with two rounded teaspoons of sea salt. I took a sip once the salt had dissolved, and found it actually tasted like ocean water. So, being that it didn’t taste bad but wasn’t necessarily good, and I’m not much of a sipper, I thought it would be better to just “down” the stuff, and I did just that. I wasn’t sure what to expect, if anything really and as the clock ticked by I started to believe that maybe it was yet another example of the numerous “snake oil” cleanse/diet programs out there. Boy! Was ever to be surprised!

At exactly 0841hrs and 31 seconds the “Wash” began to work. I know, because that time is indelibly marked in my brain and no amount of counseling or brain bleach is ever going to remove it. I chuckle as I write this because saying that the “wash began to work” is an understatement of epic proportions. It is analogous to saying that the atomic bomb has begun to work when you see that huge mushroom cloud rising in the sky. And to say I was surprised isn’t really a good description either. What occurred at that 31 second mark is more aptly described as “Shock.” Yes, shock is definitely a much better choice of words to delineate the rush of emotions and accompanying physical sensations as I rushed to the bathroom, shedding clothing while in route! I began to experience panic, as I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it! Fate smiled upon me though, and I reached home plate safely.

I did my business, redonned my clothing, and went back to my previous activity at the desk. I had just reopened an essay I was working on when, I found that the “wash” apparently had a sequel in mind. Once again, in haste, I made my way back to the porcelain goddess to pay homage. I resumed the position of enthronement and I discovered that the “wash” wanted me to stay for a while, in fact, the “wash” emphatically insisted. I forgot my phone on the trip so I had no way of being certain just how long I was held captive, but my best guess would be for 15 minutes or so. After a while, my intestines hesitatingly gave me a “green light,” thus I redressed and returned to my desk.

I actually typed about five words when the “wash” beckoned me back to the throne room. I was forced to use every amount of strength I have in my nether regions to apply a death clinch to my buttocks. Whew! I made it…again. Of course, I left my dang phone again! I usually keep a book on the toilet tank for situations such as this, but it wasn’t to be found, I had apparently moved it. So, I was forced to just sit and think on my predicament.

Things settled after 10 minutes or so. I didn’t even bother putting anything back on except for my drawers and house shoes. I then began the return trek to the desk.

While in transit I literally yelled out, “You have got to be kidding me!” I didn’t even make it through the living room this time! Back to the restroom I fled. Fortunately, I was only stuck there for five minutes this time.

After getting my underwear back on, I thought I’d have a drink of water. I felt very thirsty, and rightly so, I’m guessing I’d just evacuated all of the liquid a human body contains! Huge mistake! Yep, off to the races again!

After that round, my back side was starting to feel very uncomfortable. I began wondering if maybe I had a jumbo size ChapStick around the house somewhere. I very gingerly sat back down in my desk chair. Of course, by now I had no energy whatsoever to write a single word. I was so exhausted. I had been physically, not to mention emotionally drained.

So, now that I am on the back side of this (no pun intended mind you), I have begun to ponder my dearest Chelsea why you didn’t warn me about this beforehand. I can think of only two reasons for this omission. One, you simply forgot about these most unfortunate side effects of the “wash.” Or two, you intentionally left me to discover this little tidbit of information all on my own. I’m leaning towards the latter.

In closing I would like to commend the author, Mr. Burroughs, in creating such an effective “wash.” My colon has never been cleaner. In fact, I do not believe one could achieve a higher degree of cleanliness if one were to insert a power washer back there on the full power setting. I am certain that if a gastroenterologist were to peer into my intestinal tract, he would have to do so with darkly tinted sun glasses to protect his eyes from the glare. Squeaky clean up there Mr. K. Nice job!

P.S. I am not sure if I can even bestir myself to drink the lemonade part of this program. My courage seems to have left town, at least for a while.

P.S.S. You and I will to revisit this next week. We will also have to determine what our definition is of “friendship.”

P.S.S.S. I’m fairly certain I am now free of my liver, gall bladder, and maybe even my kidneys thanks to the cleanse.