The news that Janet Jackson will be penning a diet book reminded me I wanted to tell you a story, readers, and I hope you've caught lunch already because it's a story about Alli. Perhaps you recall: I purchased some meaning to review the experience for you, and over the weekend I consumed a few in an experience that resulted in shit, and it reminded me of a valuable dieting lesson I learned a few years back. You know how you're always being told that if you're breaking out too much you should maybe quit probing your pores with Salycilic acid scrub seven times a day? It's kind of like that with shitting, only a grosser. And unless you have cholera, over-shitting will not make you thin for any time horizon longer than Janet Jackson. How do I know? You'll be so glad you asked...
This is a shame, because there are numerous diet aids and procedures dedicated to giving you the runs, from Master Cleanse to the high colonic to the foulness known as Dieter's Tea to my old crutch of choice, Senokot, or more likely, its $7.99 CVS version, "Senna-C." Sennosides are formed from some sort of leaf that, once ingested, somehow agitates your stomach to produce a wet — if still clumpy — shit. I used to take quite a lot of senna tablets, to the point where the expense was on par with a moderate cigarette habit, until finally it just tapered off. I distinctly remember the last time I took them: I was working on a story, and had just consumed an entire box of Rice Krispies in water, in addition to a wheel of Laughing Cow or something idiotic like that, and an ex-boyfriend invited me to dinner. "I don't know if I can come," I protested. "What, do you have to take a shit or something?" he asked. (Conveniently, he remembered his "prescience" six hours later when I was sitting on his bed explaining why he could not go down on me.)
Anyway, Alli is sort of like Senokot, only more expensive because the sudden, massive watery shits are augmented by a few globules of grease, to let you know it's "working." The problem is, anything that "works" by making you shit constantly is invariably going to make you hungry constantly — even if you're not hungry, you're just dehydrated; trust me you'll feel empty inside — and therefore constantly desirous of food. And if you could temper your cravings for food, would you be abusing laxatives in the first place?
Beyond that, all that shitting on purpose makes people insane. The obsession with the trajectory of your weight — the obsession that makes anorexics so dead-afraid of gaining any — becomes almost cartoonish, and then you start wondering what kind of toll the whole thing is exacting on your asshole. Seriously, though fuck your asshole for a second, and just think about all the time you have wasted. No, don't! I have years of my life where the most salient memories were of the weird pully-type toilet tank in the office bathroom, and the vaguely eerie "Psssst" of the automated freshener I assumed for months was some sort of surveillance device. God, and that's a lot of time to spend smelling the residue of other people's shits. Hours you'll never get back, kids!
Anyway, in conclusion, you're better off constipated. Hemorrhoids, after all, can be treated with a little cream. Your sanity is another story!