March 15th, 2011 | Author: trancejen
While I may not be eighty, I have a long-standing love affair with prunes.
Having been severely constipated my whole life, my dad introduced me to the wrinkly little greasy things at an early age, and I became enamored with the sweet little nuggets of poop-inducing fruit. I love prunes, prune juice, baked goods containing prunes, prunes in any form.
I only have had one bad experience with prunes before yesterday, and that is during a time in which I was eight years old. I was snacking on some prunage when I came across a prune pit that quickly became lodged in my throat.
“Gack.” I waved my arms wildly.
My dad looked up from his paper, mildly interested. My mom looked at me disapprovingly and intoned, “Stop making that awful noise, Jennifer.”
“Gack. Gack.” I waved my arms, turning a lovely shade of crimson, slowly choking to death while my parents stupidly sat there like morons.
My dad looked up from his paper again and began to understand the gravity of the situation.
“I think she’s choking.”
No shit, Sherlock. “Gack.”
To his credit, he finally rushed from his chair, and instead of performing the Heimlich Maneuver, which would have been too easy; he picked me up, turned me upside down, and began to shake me violently.
“Gack! Gack! Gack!”
Finally the prune pit dislodged along with everything else I had eaten that week, and order was restored to the kingdom of Trance.
So, there was that.
This week my mother bought me an extra-jumbo-sized bag of prunes because she knows that I love them (and also for their poo-encouraging properties).
I took them downstairs into the Trance Cave and started to eat a few whilst watching a Lifetime movie and damn, they were good, and I must admit I was having visions of poo, since I hadn’t gone in about a week.
God, I have gastrointestinal issues. I freaking dream about poop.
Anyway, I sort of lost track of time, and before I noticed what I was doing I had eaten about a third of the bag.
This is equivalent to taking about five maximum-strength Ex-Lax pills.
I wasn’t too worried, as I am the Anti-Poo Queen, so I shrugged it off, warned the J-Man not to eat my prunes (he is a Super Pooper), and went on about my business.
About two hours later I was to face what the impolite among us would call a veritable shitstorm.
I, however, will be couth and refer to it as “severe gastrointestinal distress”.
Let us just say that I finished three Time magazines in the john.
The allure of prunes is strong, people, but do not lose control. Trust me.
Trust me.
In other news, I received several gift certificates during the Weetacon raffle, and my daily e-mail has been forcing me to shop. I get e-mail from Amazon, Macy’s, Target, you name it.
So, I shopped. I bought some new lotion and hair conditioner and soaps. I bought two pairs of cute wedge heels from Target. I bought Wendy McClure’s and Jennette Fulda’s books from Amazon. I also bought a weight loss book from Amazon recommended by my friend Christine that promises not only stellar workouts and a great diet plan but AMAZING SEX! and a SEVEN (Note: I was wrong – it’s FIFTEEN) MINUTE ORGASM!!
Can you even fucking imagine a seven (fifteen) minute orgasm?? I must admit that this is the primary reason I bought the book (shut up, you would too), because the very thought was so tantalizing. Still, I’m not sure that I could even handle seven (fifteen) minutes of orgasm. I think I would pass out mid-way. Sorry, no more orgasm for me, I’m done. Too much orgasm! Must sleep now.
Seven (fifteen) minutes. I feel I must call shenanigans, but we shall see. Not that I’m actually sleeping with anyone at the moment to test this theory out.
Wouldn’t a seven (fifteen) minute orgasm scare a man half to death??
“JESUS, isn’t she ever going to STOP???”
Heh.
Internet marketing is so fucking aggressive. I’ll bet I get thirty e-mails a day from stores begging me to shop, offering me promo codes and discounts. It’s enough to drive me mad, because I WANT I WANT I WANT.
Sigh. Where’s that winning Powerball ticket when I need it?
If you have it, help a sistah out.
Happy Tuesday.
Your parents crack me up.
Heh. A seven minute orgasm? The man’s thought is more apt to be “oh come on, I was done six and a half minutes ago.”
I ate 29 prunes in 1 hour last month, and downed a bag of sugar free candy right after. The sad part, NOTHING HAPPENED.
I’m not sure how jazzed you’d be about the idea, but I know you’re like me: a book lover with limited funding. You can download Amazon’s Kindle program for free on your computer and then just buy the Kindle versions of books- much cheaper. You can read them on computers, smart phones, etc. I love it.
Robin, I have thought about that, but I actually thought you had to have a Kindle! Doh!
Jenni, JESUS. You must have a cast-iron stomach.
Kevin. You are SO RIGHT, as usual. Heh.
Amy, they’re freaking nuts.
It’s a FIFTEEN minute orgasm!!! I WAS WRONG! I just started reading the book, and it’s 15!!!
Jesus.
Hello? So what’s the name of the book? You can’t leave us hanging like that- your readers need that information!
It’s called the Four Hour Body by Timothy Ferriss.
I love prunes too! but never have gone over board and had your results. I hear it can be messy
eeewwwwwww
Ok I had to order the book too. I must know! he also has a book called the 4 hour work week. His concepts and insights are very interesting. And fearless. Definetly fearless.
I love prunes too! So friggen delicious! I’ve never really had adverse reactions–I’d like to say this is because I’ve never over-indulged, but who are we kidding here? Probably more because I am the queen of fiber vegetarian and my body is just used to it?
I have to get that book back from the library to try out the O…
Ever tried magnesium supplements? I had some ongoing digestive issues, and this seems to have helped, but I’ve also been taking a lot of supplements that seem to have all-together helped (a la The Mood Cure, there’s also a Diet Cure book, which I would guess is a lot of the same info). Balancing my vitamin levels has helped me out a lot, is all I’m sayin.
I’ve never tried them – what’s the recommended amount?