Gary's in the Calaboose, Again

Gary thought it would be funny if we carted out to Reese Witherspoon’s place naked. I always fall for Gary’s little dares. Chatto got some great pics but Reece called the cops and Gary was high on cheese heroin and he’s in the slammer now. (They couldn’t touch me, AND I’ve got a card from Dr. Baswabi in Spanish indicating the likely health consequences of stress-induced agitation).

Fast-wise I’m doing great. Was hoping to hit 450 by tomorrow, just to be on the safe side, but don’t think I’ll make it. Exploring Mongolian cuisine has awakened a spiritual fellow-feeling with the Sino-Turkic peoples I never knew was in me. That said, I’ve always considered myself a ‘nomad’ of sorts, sandwiched in between the earthly realm and the soul’s desire for a freedom it won’t ever taste, and this has only confirmed my decision to eat Genghis Khan. [Editor’s note: ‘to portray’]. On that note, let me tell you what’s going on in Alma-Ata (my Genghis Khan check-list). 1) I’ve got the caterers; 2) I’ve got the only hotel in Ulaanbaatar (where we’ll be shooting) that offers a 24/7 Mongolian buffet; 3) I’ve got the Moldavian ‘artistes’; 4) I’ve got the wide-angle lenses, cranes, forklifts, carts, seismologists, goats, marmots, hot stones, etc.; 5) I’ve got (important!) my stunt double, Fertus Booz, the former Mongolian Khorkhog-eating champion; 6) I’ve got my passport; 7) I’ve got my chi; 8) I’ve got my balls, though I doubt I’ll ever see them again; and (drum roll please) 9) I’VE GOT EMILIO ESTEVEZ! Never expected this, (and never expected to see Emilio again after I kicked him off the set of The Glimmer Man), but Emilio was streaking Reese Witherspoons’s lawn yesterday when Gary and I carted by, and he was high on cheese heroin too and agreed to be Harem Guard 2. I think I’ll develop this part a bit more to give Emilio the full emotional range he’s capable of. Anyway, feeling good and ‘corralling those calories’, as Ernest Borgnine used to say, for the long march home.

I’ve decided (because I’ve noticed that other blogs do this) to post a weekly trivia question. The prize is an autographed picture of me from a film of your choosing (straight to DVD doesn’t count) and the chance to go shopping with me in my cart. This week’s trivia question: Name three films in which my combined weight from the first two was more than my weight in the third. Hint: Don’t go back further than my 1979 cameo on The Young and the Restless.

Bon appetite!

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast:
3 Egg McKublais (This is my own term, of course. Triple-decker Egg McMuffin stuffed with Boozul and Khorkhog, 19 points)

Mid-morning Snack
Genghis Surprise (according to experts, the dish Genghis Khan had prepared the night before he died of intestinal irregularities. In other words, Genghis’ last meal: Roasted swine stuffed with Khorkhog, Urum, Khailmag, Boozul, Huvgash, Eezgii and Boodog. Loved it, 21 points)

Lunch
Pifnul (don’t know what this was, but it was delicious and highly fattening, 18 points)

Mid-afternoon Snack
Caramelized goat turds (2 points)

Dinner
If you guessed Kublai Khan Victory Feast for 4, you’re one step ahead of me (sike!) . . . Kublai Khan Victory Feast for 6! (~73 points)

After-dinner Snack
My shadow, which now weighs 232 lbs (0 points!)

My weight: 449 ¾ lbs

Preparations for a Fast

Carted out to the Whole Foods today (25 minutes when you make all the lights) but my cart didn’t fit through the doors. I didn’t fit through the doors either (was a little irritated about this) so sent Chatto in on his cart. Maybe I haven’t mentioned this but Dr. Siegal’s people supplied this extra cart on request at no extra charge. They’re great folks. The F&P people could learn a thing or two from them. We were originally thinking about a sidecar option but when I found out that Chuck Norris and his houseboy travel this way I was totally put off the idea. Anyway, Chatto did fit in the doors and stocked up on all my pre-fast favorites but Chatto’s cart, we soon realized, hardly has any truck space. Talk about bad chi! In the meantime I’d worked up an appetite waiting there watching all those bags go by, not to mention the ham-and-cheese croissants and spinach-and-feta quiches at the sidewalk café, so I headed across the street to Finicky Waffles, which has a drive-thru window, and had a deuce of Belgians with light whipped cream washed down with an excellent mocha cappuccino (marvelous foam) and a deuce of Belgians with no whipped cream, and then headed back across the street when . . . my batteries ran out! I wasn’t ‘in’ the intersection but the Siegal cart is an eight-door so I was pretty much blocking the whole westbound side. The boys in blue called the boys in red and they had the fire crane all set to go when . . . more bad chi on the way . . . I couldn’t get out! I blame the gas bubbles in the cappuccino for that. Anyway, to make a long and painful story short, the closest on-duty army reserve unit was in Sacramento and it would have taken forever, so a young firefighter, Brad Sarajevo, (I promised I’d mention him) called the auto body shop down the street and they got me out with an acetylene torch and a few tubs of margarine. Tough work but it paid off in the end because there was a new Mongolian place opposite the body shop, Genghis Kebabs (plug!), and we all had a feast. The boys from Engine 117 were kind enough to tow me back to the ranch on condition that I gave them each an autographed poster of Eric Roberts in The Coca Cola Kid.

On the dieting front, have decided to embark on a week-long fast, Friday to Friday, two weeks before Gu Jamp, the Buddhist Week of Purification. Doctor Baswabi recommended I try out this ‘hardcore’ dieting technique since my weight hasn’t stabilized yet. I don’t consider this a ‘dieting technique’ at all but if it works that’s fine with me. The secret to a proper fast, for those of you who have never done it, is to glut the organism to the point of spiritual satiety (this is a Buddhist term) so that the soul can then survive on the stored calories of the body. If you don’t get it, just think of it as a elevator that has a week to get to the 55^th floor. Ride it empty and you’re there in no time (and have missed the whole point) but load it down with plenty of fatty this and fatty that and you’re golden.

Finally, in answer to Bud ‘Muscle Head’ Coogan’s three-part question posted on my official website yesterday: “Does Chuck Norris really need 25 body guards to defend himself? Did Chuck Norris pinch your ears? Are you really that fat?”, the answers are: Probably not, but he has them (and it was 20, not 25). Yes. So to speak. Hope that’s been some help and send me some chi to get through my fast preparations.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Urum (nothing more than clotted cream), Khailmag (caramelized Urum), Boozul (fried Khailmag), Huvgash (Boozul topped with melted lamb fat) (17 points)

Mid-morning snack
Mongolian sausage links, Eezgii (basically a plate of fried cheese but you don’t have to think of it that way, 22 points)

Lunch
Belgian waffles (2 and 2), gassy cappuccino, Genghis Kebabs for 2 plus leftovers from Engine 117, residual margarine (23 points)

Mid-afternoon snack
Khorkhog (This is traditionally mutton cooked on hot stones in a container but works just as well with pork, or both, 15 points)

Dinner
Goat Boodog (Again, traditionally a marmot or goat dish, cooked on hot stones in the stomach, and again, can be substituted with lamb, pork or both), Lamb Boodog, Pork Boodog, Goat stomach, hot stones (33 points)

Midnight Snack
2 All-purpose Kublai Khan Victory Platters (I’m not bragging, they dared me)

My weight: 442 lbs

Double Doozy: Treasure Revealer Status Revoked/Attacked by Chuck Norris and Hooligans

I’ve decided to address the second of these issues first since it hits closer to home. As many of you may already know, Chuck Norris and a gang of his supporters stopped by for a showdown yesterday just after I’d just finished my laps in the pebble garden. Aided by a team of at least 20 young Vietnamese rabble-rousers in matching Chuck Norris sweatbands, Chuck, whose box office returns could fit into my portable refrigerator (let’s say my igloo), took this opportunity to show off his stuff, and pushed me, cart-bound, into the Buddhist water garden. I was deeply disturbed by Chuck’s behavior for a number of reasons. For one, he could have waited for me to make my exit from my cart. Two, he knows I need a little extra time to focus my energies these days. Three, Chatto and Banroot are sitting ducks. Four, Chuck, more than anyone, knows I’m deeply sensitive about verbal attacks on my Buddhist gods and can’t swim without my motorized raft, and five, my mobility is (at best) limited. Given the situation, when Chuck said, “Hit me, fat boy,” and pinched my ears and started to shake my cart, I couldn’t do anything more than enclose him in a circle of fear, which I hate to do and which takes (whether you believe it or not) 10 times the chi than when I was a third of my current weight. If Banroot hadn’t had the foresight to run to the kitchen and bring mousetraps (the Vietnamese are terrified of mousetraps), I have the feeling we all would have been dead. Chuck, I feel I have to add, left with all my leftovers.

About the second issue, here’s my basic dilemma concerning my Buddhist reincarnation. I never said I was God. I never said I was Chundrag Dorje. It was that lama out in Shasta, H.H. Penor Rinpoche (he eats sardines marinated in cognac) who said I was the Treasure Revealer. Still, when they make you a ‘tulku’, when they give you that status, they shouldn’t take it back. As for their reasons, their ‘claims’, when I set out on the path of enlightenment many years ago on the snow-clad mountains peaks of distant Japan, I took a vow to go the whole hog, spiritually speaking. Let me state this again for the record. I am primarily a spiritual man. My music, my acting, my philanthropy, my comic genius, my eating, these all play second fiddle to my spirituality, and I’ve had too hard a time convincing Hollywood of this to take it lightly when the religious community comes down on me like a ton of bricks with their bad chi for my ‘shameful dietary habits’.

Excuse me, I just never said I was anything but Steven Seagal, and I wish more people would realize that. I can’t do everything. I try, but I can’t, and my body size has nothing to do with it. If anything, my spirituality has increased. I apologize for the outburst, really I do, and, more importantly, I welcome you again into my kitchen to share the secrets of low-cal Mongolian dieting.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Kublai Khan Victory Breakfast (7 points)

Mid-morning snacks
“as much meat as we want” (I don’t know why the Eazel people haven’t patented this, 16 points)

Lunch
Buuz (these are savory Mongolian pastries. I had Chatto fill mine with a variety of meats but minced lamb is the best), roast lamb (7 points)

Mid-afternoon snack
Ul Boov (or ‘shoe sole cake’, usually eaten on the Buddhist New Year but what the heck. Delicious any time, 9 points).

Dinner
Mongolian Barbecue Feast for four (don’t try this at home) at the Gobi Mongolian Barbecue House on Sunset Blvd. Thank God they have a cart-friendly policy, I was absolutely stuffed (33 points)

After-dinner Snack
Chuck Norris stole my leftovers

My weight: 435 lbs

Tupac Shakur 1st Annual Walk-on-Watts-Willowbrook

Was contacted by the Tupac Shakur estate yesterday to participate in the 1^st Annual Tupac Shakur Walk-on-Watts-Willowbrook to benefit single black fathers with muscular dystrophy and alimony issues. This was a surprise, considering that I’d been axed from the Tupac Shakur Tribute Album. I’m leaving this one up to Chatto, who would be representing me in any case.

Stood up in the afternoon and turned west. Went for a 10-minute drive in the pebble garden after that, followed by tea cakes with Banroot and Chatto and Chatto’s cousins. Was deposited in the Buddhist water garden on a raft and paddled vigorously to the other side; motored back. Managed to roll myself out of the pool with a little help from Chatto’s nephew, Simpuk, then did another lap in the cart. Timed myself this time. I’ve realized over the past few days, by the way, that driving, as opposed to walking, leaves me much more open to positive vibrations. It may have something to do with the hum of the motor, I’m not sure, but my meditations have been particularly rewarding behind the wheel. So much so that preparations are now underway for a little dirt track (complete with a bandstand, pit stop and vending facilities) to skirt the pebble garden. Have agreed, on Myron Beas’ advice, to post the following: Jean-Claude Van Damme never ate lobster croquets. Thanks, Myron.

In ‘celebrity’ news, I’ve been voted ‘former action star most likely to succeed in a post-capitalist scenario’ by the Moldovan Reuters. And, the best news of the day (and probably the month), Mr. Minch has officially bought and sold the rights to my next two pictures, meaning that whoever he sold them to must really be interested. Flying out to Alma-Ata to start shooting Genghis as soon as I’ve arranged the on- and off-site catering, stars, music and wide-angle lenses. In preparation for this part, I’ve decided to combine low-cal Mongolian with Eazel’s “the diet of the grapefruit and the citrus” (see yesterday’s entry), which is working great. Hope you enjoy these meals as much as I did.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Glass of fermented yak’s milk (a meal in itself), grapefruit, 2 pieces bacon (6 points)

Mid-Morning Snack
Genghis Khan Meat-Flavored Caramels, orange, 2 pieces bacon, tea cakes (7 points)

Lunch
Borc shorlog (roast corn substituted for lamb), roast marshmallows, kiwi, “as much meat as we want” (22 points)

Mid-afternoon Snack
Shaomai dainties in black vinegar, grapefruit, fish species, meat species, general species, 2 pieces bacon (14 points)

Dinner
Kublai Khan Victory Feast (19 points)

My weight: 427 lbs

The Diet Of The Grapefruit And The Citrus

Dabbling with new diets over the weekend and this one from our friends at Eazel Communities caught my eye:

THE DIET OF THE GRAPEFRUIT AND THE CITRUS

“In this diet, it can be used grapefruit, orange or lemon; this is one of the commonest diets followed by lost of people and which is also recommended since it is simple and convenient; however it is necessary to pay attention not to lose nutrients. With this diet 5 kilos can be lost in 10 days, and this also means losing nutrients. The negative aspect lies in the fact that after losing so many kilos, the body can regain those lost kilos and even more and fast that the time it took you to lose them.”

Still waiting to hear back from Mr. Siegal. Was shocked to learn from Eric Schworsky, my weight management therapist, that the Siegal diet involves shakes and soups and not just cookies. Even so the Siegal Cookie Cart is a blast. I just wish it did come with doors because I fell out twice yesterday and had to have Chatto and Banroot, Gary and Eric put me back in.

Had brunch with Kevin Costner’s second cousin, Abel Costner, on Saturday, and we discussed the possibility of replacing Mandy Patinkin (cast to play Dagur in my Genghis Khan musical) with Doody Costner, the nephew of Abel’s 2^nd ex-wife, Lorraine Costner. Mandy hasn’t been answering my phone calls. Will brunch with Doody this week. Otherwise, Jean-Claude Van Damme’s lawyer contacted me this morning with a potential lawsuit. His demands were the following: 1) remove references to Imjo from the website 2) remove references to Jean-Claude’s ex-wife’s brother from the website 3) remove Jean-Claude’s dance compilation from the website 4) make it clear to my readers that Jean-Claude is not a ‘fag’ (his words), he just looks good in tank tops.

Have taken all four into consideration.

Below, I’ve included verbatim ‘the diet of the grapefruit and the citrus’, which I more or less stuck to yesterday and the day before. Any additions or exceptions appear in quotations.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Grapefruit, (orange or lemon) two eggs (cooked to taste) and two pieces of bacon (6 points)

Lunch:
Grapefruit, (orange or lemon) salad seasoned to taste and as much meat as we want (12 points)

Dinner:
Grapefruit, (orange or lemon) salad prepared to taste with legumes, butter or species, meat fish, a cup of coffee or tea (10 points)

Night Snack:
A cup of skim milk, “and as much meat as we want” (3o points)

My weight: 423 lbs

I'm On Ghanan Youtube!

Video of the day: Jean Claude Van Damme dancing compilation

Overjoyed to be back on the ranch. Feeling (and looking) less bloated, and all it took was some high altitude turbulence! Imagine that, but I must have dropped 10 lbs in gas alone on that flight. The great thing about first class on Lufthansa, though, is that you really get your money’s worth. Especially when you pay for two entire rows. Chatto and I split eight first-class meals, two and six respectively. I guess I’d really worked up an appetite at the clinic, and can’t wait to get back to some normal, old-fashioned dieting. (And my sword collection! And my F & P 7160! And all my furry little friends on the ranch!) My pectorals are still sore, and inflated, probably the Premarin, but everything else is more or less regularly corpulent. Some more great news. In my absence, my weight therapist, Eric Schworsky, was contacted by Dr. Siegal of Dr. Siegal’s cookie diet fame. And . . . I’m so excited about this . . . Dr. Siegal wants me to endorse his cookies! Can’t tell you how much this possibility means to me now that Kyushu Blue fell through. Leonardo Di Caprio (a huge blue cheese fan) is now their celebrity endorser. Kudos to you, Leonardo. I figure it’s either Siegal’s or Atkins for me now. Cookies or mass quantities of beef and fat? It’s a toss up.

One more thing that I should probably mention. Even a man of my celebrity status is allowed to get the ‘fan bug’ from time to time and I got it on the flight, and an overdose. Imagine this: I was sitting two rows down from Jean-Claude Van Damme! Which, considering that I had two rows to myself, made us more or less neighbors. Jean-Claude was traveling with his nephew, Imjo, a strapping Nigerian bodybuilder. Jean-Claude looked great. How does he do it? . . . Botox? Premarin? He was surprised that his new reality show, Beef Chop, was up for the equivalent of an Emmy in Belgium, but that’s Jean-Claude for you. I offered him a small part in my re-make of The Hustler.

The whole week at La Presse en Cordille is now behind me, like a nightmare. Only Chundrag Dorje, and his various high-calorie reincarnations, haunts me, and my stay in the B Wing (no longer rolling, Dr. Siegal’s people sent me an eight-door motorized cart minus the extra seats and doors, almost a limo as far as these things go, and I love it! Thanks, Dr. Siegal.) Meanwhile, am having Gary’s lawyer, Myron Beas, contest my bill for £20,000 sterling on the grounds that I was subject to ‘unusual and excessive harassment’ (Dr. Rangou’s ‘technicians’ put my stay in the Glycerin Tank up on Ghanan Youtube, and, believe it or not, I’m right up there with Saddam Hussein’s hanging). Speaking of Gary, we went on a squirrel hunt today (Gary’s latest hobby) and though I refused to participate on Buddhist grounds, I did manage to capture a few specimens, which are frisking in the pebble garden as I write. And, lastly, because I had the opportunity to do so, and because I ate six first-class Lufthansa meals (just try it) and was hardly in the mood to eat anything but my bed when I got home, I asked Jean-Claude Van Damme to be my Guest Dieter. Thanks for your continued support and enjoy with me this very rare honor: Jean-Claude Van Damme’s meals.

Jean-Claude Van Damme’s meals
Breakfast
Imjo on a bed of lettuce (he actually told me this)

Lunch
Bouillabaisse, lobster croquets, Camembert and stone wheat crackers, crème brulee, two bottles Piesporter Goldtröpfchen (all included in Lufthansa’s first-class meal), Imjo in the restroom

Mid-Afternoon Snack
Imjo

Dinner
Algerian ass

Midnight Snack
Ex-wife’s brother

My weight: 421 lbs

Break Out

Was rolled out of my room late this morning by Theovaldus and Theovaldus’ assistant, Kemji, a swarthy, squat gentleman with the permanent scowl of a gravedigger. Kemji, I was certain, had rifled through my pockets before rolling me into the corridor, though I’m sure my plastic sheet (the exudations resulting from aggravated hydrocolloidal liposis had necessitated this change of materials) has no pockets. I was taken to Room 201 for a late breakfast of Vanadium injections and then palpated roughly about the buttocks and chest. ‘Breasts’ Kemji had cackled. I was then rolled out of Room 201 and into Room 208, where I was lathered in an anti-friction ointment and wrapped in a suit of rubber phosphate that molded immediately to the contours of my enlarged shape, easily accommodating my increasingly bloated appendages and abdominal regions (the heat lamps, I suspect). Kemji, as I was spread out before him in my rubber suit and utterly defenseless, told me that he had watched every one of my films back in his ‘town’ and that they all sucked. He made an ambiguous gesture. He said that if anyone where he came from (where exactly did he come from?) had made such trash he would have been strung up and whipped with cowhide. He spat. Theovaldus dismissed his partner and called in another whose name I’ve forgotten, and realizing that it would be less of a hassle with a third helper, called in a third man, and in this way I was rolled to the end of the B Wing and into the Glycerin Chamber.

Just before leaving me there, Theovaldus offered me a Twinkie on the sly. Naturally, I refused and was injected instead with Methionine and given a chunk of Yohimbe bark to chew on to keep my saliva flowing. Before us stood a massive tank as tall as a silo with filmy, transparent walls. It seemed to be filled with a gently purling zinc-colored liquid. A team of lab technicians rolled me onto a rubber platform and signaled to the rest of the team in the control room to lower a hydraulic crane, which, in a matter of seconds, had lifted the platform two stories up and emptied me into the tank, where, due to the rubber phosphate, I floated. Several seconds later a lab technician dove into the tank in scuba diving gear and connected what must have been Dr. Rangou’s most elaborate and powerful irrigator to my suit, gave me the thumbs up and jumped back out.

I remember little of the rest of the day. By 3 o’clock I had chewed the Yohimbe bark to a twiggy paste but couldn’t spit it out because I couldn’t turn over. Periodically, the irrigator would switch on and flush like a jack hammer and then, as suddenly, suck at my bowels until I was sure I had none to speak of. Throughout this time, I caught out of the corner of my eye groups of anxious scientists observing me in 5-minute shifts, scribbling feverishly on the clipboards and darting off. The glycerin, Theovaldus had made perfectly clear, was ionized and was the only hope I had of coaxing the malignant fat out of my system before I . . . I really don’t want to think about this.

At 5 o’clock I was removed from the tank and rolled to my room, where I quickly passed out. At 10 I awoke, having dreamt again of Chundrag Dorje, this time as a pickled herring chasing me with a fork; a significant dream in that I had always chased after the meals in my dreams and now Chundrag Dorje was chasing me! He was trying to tell me something, I was certain. I meditated immediately, thanking my mentor, and quickly contacted Chatto telepathically, ordering him to find a peasant with a wagon and at least six or seven strong village men. By 11, robed in plastic, I was lifted into a pig cart by Montado, a local farmer, and seven of his stoutest sons. By 1 in the morning I was sitting in Montado’s stable supping on Montado’s excellent foie de gras and a platter of steaming pigs’ feet. At midnight, I was transferred by cattle trailer to the local airstrip in Arcueil, and from there by a transport plane kindly arranged by the Emergency Grain Distribution Agency of a nearby canton to Orly, where I am now sitting outside a French McDonald’s at an Internet terminal awaiting my flight back home to Hollywood. Gary, if you read this, please warm up the Buddhist Water Garden.

Yesterday’s Meals
Breakfast
Vanadium injection (o points)

Lunch
Methionine injection, Yohimbe bark (o points)

Late Dinner
21 oz. foie de gras, pigs’ feet (3 points)

Pre-Breakfast Snack
2 Royal Deluxes, large pommes frittes, small pommes frittes, 3 Croque Mc Dos, Recette au Saumon, Asterix Happy Meal (surprised, and encouraged, that the French had this), McFlurry, bottle of Evian.

My Weight: Didn’t have the opportunity to weigh myself yesterday but I’ve got my fingers crossed.

Colonic Disaster

Was awoken last night by a loud, popping noise, then an agonized sob. Drunk again, Kelvins had fallen asleep with his irrigator on. Dr. Rangou was unreachable so Kelvins was airlifted to the nearest medical center in Arcueil. Hope he makes it.

Earlier that evening Doctor Rangou had called me into his study for a chat. We sipped Calvados by the fireside, Doctor Rangou kindly making room for me on the floor and providing ample fur throws and cushions. I was given a pair of warm slippers and asked to roll from the fireside to the bar and back again. Doctor Rangou asked me if I had noticed any difficulties in doing so. I hadn’t, other than that my flesh was over-tender, which I’d put down to Julian’s warm coals and the grapefruit juice rub. I was then asked to sit up. I was unable. Doctor Rangou made a note of this and said that, undoubtedly, his worst fears were now confirmed. I was, he said, the first patient in 30 years’ history of successful colonic therapy at La Presse en Cordille to have contracted ‘hydrocolloidal liposis’, and a malignant case at that. Dr. Rangou disappeared and returned in a loose-fitting cotton robe. I was given a cotton sheet and told to fit it over my body as best I could. When I’d done so, Dr. Rangou glanced at his clipboard.

“Are you bloated?” he asked, glancing at my supine shape.

“Yes,” I said. I was still bloated.

“Significantly, I should think.”

I nodded.

“Do you suffer from indigestion or any other gastric ailments?”

“No.”

“Have you kept to your diet?”

I had.

“Did you at any time,” Dr. Rangou poked my stomach, which expanded at his touch, “administer an enema without my knowledge?”

“No, doctor,” I said.

“Well,” Doctor Rangou shrugged, “we’re going to transfer you to the B Wing. Please sign here. I trust,” he poked again, “that you aren’t against experimental therapies.”

I wasn’t and signed, was rolled back to my room to await delivery to the B Wing, and then Kelvins’ irrigator exploded.

After Kelvins was carried out of the clinic, alone in my bed, I saw a dream of lox, then of baklava. In both dreams the lox and baklava had the gently smiling face of Chungdrag Dorje, the Treasure Revealer. Whenever I approached and tried to prong them with a fork, they vanished. It was unbearable. I awoke in a sweat that smelled faintly of Entenmann’s Banana Split Crumb Cake. Tearfully, I bade farewell to Chatto, who couldn’t join me, Julian rolled me to the B Wing, which was a 15-minute procedure by a series of underground tunnels. We passed only hunched, bloated, wheezing figures being accompanied to or from rooms with locked doors leading off a atrium. I was rolled into a damp, brilliant white room with a large puffy mattress in the corner and given some reading material. For the rest of the night, I was misted at intervals with a liquid that smelled faintly of the doctor’s alpine tonic but in a more diluted form. In between mistings I was rolled from one side of the room to the other by Dr. Rangou’s manservant, Theovaldus, who then poked me in the stomach, asking me each time if I noticed a decrease in pressure. I didn’t. Following each rolling, I was led into one of the rooms we’d seen coming in, where I was set down on a rubber throne under a heat lamp that released a steady flow of atomized fennel at my naked body. I was then injected with a mysterious fluid that caused my stomach to speak in voices, and rolled back to my room.

At the end of this long night of therapies my condition hadn’t significantly improved, and it was then that it dawned on me that I was no longer walking anywhere, but rolling or being rolled. Oddly, I also realized I hadn’t eaten anything that day but a plate of Greg Louganis’ tubers. Unsure whether to go on. Unsure what I’ve accomplished here. This morning’s weigh-in, aided by a solar-powered forklift, revealed that the water trapped in my bowels has already taken on a viscous, or semi-solid, form, which, Dr. Rangou prophesied, is a sure sign that the hydrocolloidized fat has metastasized into porous fat molecules and is propagating at an alarming rate. Please pray for me.

Yesterday’s Meal
Breakfast
Greg Louganis’ tubers

My weight: 410 lbs

A Difficult Day

Was in and out of various labs for most of this morning and yesterday (and have been asked not to reveal anything as of yet). I’ll just say that I’ve apparently run into some trouble here at the clinic. Other than a brief acquaintance with Inuit healing techniques for blubber-induced dyspepsia and some Buddhist feasting chants, I’m a complete novice when it comes to the complications resulting from misapplied colonic irrigations, so don’t know how to describe my condition other than to say that I am now preposterously and indelibly bloated. Dr. Rangou hasn’t given an official medical diagnosis yet but he thinks it could be ‘hydrocolloidal liposis’ triggered by ‘over-stimulation of the colon and sphincter’. Dr. Rangou seems to feel that the constant flushing has somehow aggravated my fat tissues, and the ‘liposis’ while not natural is more of a bother than a ‘medical condition’. Still, I’ve gained 5 lbs since last night’s weighing.

Was under Dr. Rangou’s photosynthetic heat lamps for most of the morning, to stimulate the nutrients in my blood stream, as I understand it, a sort of crack force of herbal trace elements, enzymes and dormant proteins that with any luck will march right in against my ‘fat matter’ and the aggressive water build-ups therein. I was a given 12 oz. of the doctor’s alpine fennel tonic, Farmosan, and then irrigated with it. I lunched on vitamins and yeast. Then I was given a private massage by Dr. Rangou’s Head Masseur, Julian. Because of the excessive bloating, Julian said, my muscles were well-cushioned and hence untraceable at the moment, and I was taken to a small field and Julian rolled me over warm coals for an hour or so. Following that, I was rubbed with grapefruit juice and told to lay motionless for the rest of the afternoon. And on top of all this, Mr. Cardoza, a permanent resident of La Presse en Cordille, has accused me of stealing and eating his breakfast tubers! So what more can I say? Did notice that President Papadopoulos of Cyprus checked himself in this morning, along with Greg Louganis, an old friend, and his houseboy, Mustapha. Otherwise, am making do. Am hungry. Miss my pebble garden. My enemas and have been discontinued until Dr. Rangou processes his results, and Chatto is Kelvins' new enema buddy. Thank you for your patience and enjoy yesterday’s meals.

Yesterday’s Meals
Breakfast
Tritophan, morning enema (0 points)

Mid-Morning snack
Brewer’s yeast (1 point)

Lunch
Mixed tubers, bayberry, time-released arginine, afternoon enema (2 points)

Mid-Afternoon Snack
Glass soy milk (3 points)

Dinner
Kelp, alpine fennel tonic, Questran, Premarin, evening (and final) enema (2 points)

My weight: 408 lbs

Update To Come This Evening

Internet access is spotty here at the clinic. Between prep time for colonic irrigation, administration of colonic irrigation, and recovery time from colonic irrigation, I haven't had much time to update. Stay tuned, and good chi.

The Wonders of Colonic Irrigation

No image today: my music video

Glad to be back. Haven’t had much sleep these past three nights due to certain ‘inconveniences’, though I’ve been told it’s par for the course. Specifically, I mean Kelvins, my roommate at La Presse en Cordille. Kelvins isn’t the ideal enemy buddy Dr. Rangou made him out to be. He isn’t very tidy and never speaks at meal times. And he’s forgetful, wheezes incessantly and may be an alcoholic. Last night he left me ‘in the lurch’ and I had to ring nurse Tremaine to unhook me from our en-suite colonic irrigation apparatus. Found Kelvins early this morning asleep in the bushes.

But since we’re on the subject of enemas, I’ve got say that if you’ve never had one, book yourself an appointment today. I dropped a whole 1/8^th of a pound after yesterday’s last session, and another few ounces after today’s first, and can’t wait to weigh myself again. (Will let you know in a few minutes.) Moreover, I’ve got nothing but positive feedback from the doctors and nurses here. Dr. Rangou, for example, has commented on ‘the fine shape of my colon’ and the ‘the heartiness of my sphincter in both clenched and relaxed positions’ though he has remarked on ‘an abnormal blockage that may require weeks, if not months, of routine cleansing to release.’ Which doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, other than Kelvins and the skimpy meals we get here, I’m enjoying myself completely. In between our enemas (administered three times daily with an optional after-dinner enema) and our aquatics and group healing sessions, I’ve had plenty of time to commune with the natural wonders of the area, which are abundant and can all be seen from the back porch where I take my bubble tea daily. Though I suppose the most wonderful thing about the situation here is that absolutely no one recognizes me, so the disguise Chatto and I had brought along (beard, glasses, etc.) isn’t even necessary. Other than being caught once or twice in an ‘eagle pose’, I haven’t had any problems concealing my identity. When not having my colon irrigated or communing with nature or posing, I’m brushing up on my Ancient Kalmyk or practicing my arias for I Am Genghis Khan.

Will sign off by saying that I was just weighed three times by nurse Tremaine and have, unexpectedly, put back on the ounces I’d lost after my last enema and actually gained an additional 2 lbs, a disturbing, if not shocking, turn of events. Nurse Tremaine has agreed to weigh me again after my afternoon enema and says that if the situation doesn’t rectify itself, I will be put on a strictly herbal cure.

Yesterday’s meals
Breakfast
10 oz. salep tea, followed by morning enema (1 point)

Mid-Morning Snack
Various local tubers and dried herbs (1 point)

Lunch
Scoop of boiled rice, followed by afternoon enema (1 point)

Mid-afternoon snack
4 oz. boysenberries, bubble tea (2 points)

Dinner
Scoop of boiled rice, followed by evening enema (1 point)

After-dinner snack
Nothing, optional enema ruined by Kelvins

My weight: 403 lbs

More Movie News: I Am Genghis Khan

Finally had a script-reading session with the provisional cast of I am Genghis Khan, my latest project, and one which I owe my friends in Kazakhstan (Imru, that means you, Fertu, you too, and Ms. Irinkova) for arranging the backing. They were also the ones who convinced me that, from all the testimony recorded of Genghis Khan’s life, the great warlord had in fact fattened up towards the end of his reign, which makes me feel a little better about portraying him in the first-ever musical about his life. Since I’m a big fan of Mel Gibson’s Apocalypto and know that the film’s success owed a lot to its being filmed in an indecipherable language, we’ve decided to shoot the whole thing in Ancient Kalmyk. I’m somewhat less thrilled about having to ride a long-haired Kasmir pony (Gary’s idea), but since this was Khan’s favored mode of transportation and since I’m one-eighth Kalmyk, I figure I’ll manage. Even so, can’t wait to start filming! Just waiting for Mr. Minch to get back (a two-film contract is always tricky and we’re still waiting on Multiple Exit Wounds). So far this is what I have: Mandy Patinkin will play the Dagur warlord, Beytullah; Alison Pes (License for Brutality, Palpable Lust, Pests, etc.) will play his consort, Sesh. Larry Brenner (They Came from a Crevice, King Sin, Dirty Father Tinney) will play my trusted ambassador to the Goths, Itu Khan, and Gary will play my man-at-arms, Orglu Bey Khan, though he has requested to speak his parts in Imperial Prussian. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Just a note on a message I received yesterday from Don the Dragon. About eBay chi meters (or anything you order from eBay) you’re absolutely right, I wouldn’t trust them to work properly. I’ve got a great dealer in Tibet who is reliable and gives you a two-year money back guarantee. Can’t beat that. On the other hand, if you’re not ready to invest in a chi meter yet but want to measure your chi on a daily basis and, as you accurately point out, don’t want to ask friends, there is a formula (I’m sitting now; otherwise, I’d find it for you) roughly along the lines of: will power/body weight = chi. In other words, your chi is connected directly to your body weight, in that a man of my ambient girth would need a significantly higher will power to body weight ratio to get my chi circulating. Or you can just estimate. The great thing about my chi meter, though, is that it comes with a 60-day supply of spray-on chi. When I’m feeling low or lethargic or have eaten a particularly devastating main or auxiliary meal, the spray-on chi works miracles, and it comes in a variety of flavors. Hope that helps.

Finally, as many of you know, I’m on my way to the Swiss Alps tomorrow. Can’t wait to meet Dr. Rangou and Kelvins, my enema buddy, and the rest of the staff. And really can’t wait to have a first-class meal on Lufthansa! Will be there for five days and then Chatto and I will perform a selection of Irwin Levine’s Negro Spirituals and Field Hollers at a nearby Elderhostel lodge. Will inform you of my progress on Monday. Until then, yesterday’s meals.

Yesterday's Meals:
Breakfast
Deep fried pancakes, hold the pancakes (not as bad as it sounds, but rough going down. I was out of organic buckwheat anyway and hate eating pancakes from a box AND canola grease is a natural diuretic, 8 points)

Mid-Morning Snack
Arby’s Combo Meal (15 points)

Lunch
5 Meatballs and 3 Meatballs (15 points)

Mid-Afternoon Snack
2 boxes Double-Stuffed Oreos (15 points, give or take 90 in either direction)

Dinner
Assortment of homemade mayonnaise sandwiches (20 points)

After Dinner Snack
My patio

My weight: 401 lbs

Exercise Do’s and Don’ts

Got a very nice e-mail from Chuck Norris yesterday afternoon; happy we’ve patched things up. Was surprised to hear that Chuck not only had the same idea about remaking The Hustler but that he’s putting the wraps on his first Broadway musical, Mezuzah! Anyway, Chuck and I fell into a conversation about exercising, and I realized that among my various spiritual, martial arts and artistic writings, there was absolutely nothing on the subject of exercise. I guess I’d just never really sat down and taken the time to do it. As it turns out, our chat couldn’t have come at a better time (I happened to be down with a bad case of lumbago yesterday, so was sitting down for most of the day anyway), and here is what I came up with. I call them, provisionally, ‘Sensei’s 10 Points For a More Toned You’.

1. DO NOT exercise directly after (30 min. to 1 hour is a safe bet) eating a major meal or any auxiliary meals, including but not limited to mid-morning, mid-lunch, after-lunch, mid-afternoon, pre-dinner, after-dinner, midnight (or any I might have left out). This is obvious and needs no further elucidation.

2. DO NOT exercise when preparing psychologically for any of the aforementioned.

3. DO NOT exercise directly before any of the aforementioned and always leave sufficient gaps in between exercising and eating times so that none of the aforementioned overlap with any exercise times.

4. DO NOT exercise when your chi is low. You can use a chi meter or just ask a friend, “Does my chi seem low?” If your friend answers affirmatively, wait until your chi has increased before exercising or preparing psychologically for exercise. If the answer is negative, check again fifteen minutes later to make sure you have adequate chi. If, in the interim, you realize that the planned exercise conflicts with any of your eating times, eat first, wait and check chi again later.

5. DO NOT exercise if you don’t want to exercise. You will just be burning chi that isn’t there to begin with and likely doing your body harm. If you find this a recurring problem, see a doctor.

6. DO NOT exercise in front of other people. No mystery but something I thought I should stress. A crowded gym is the worst place to tone your body or sweat off those extra calories. For one, the machines are often placed too close together so that the body’s natural movement from one machine to the next may be impeded. Ditto for the corridors, doors, elevators and stairwells. Second, machines typically have narrow seats or benches, which just tend to emphasize unsightly bulk and add to feelings of shame and alienation. Third, there is no reason to exercise before a mirror. I myself, when the mood to exercise is upon me, prefer to exercise in a dark closet.

7. DO NOT exercise when you could be spending your time on other more creative endeavors. Of course, I would never put eating at the top of this list, but eating too can be an intensely creative experience. Being a highly creative individual, and a highly sensitive and spiritual individual, I consider any of the following more fulfilling on a number of levels: tending to my pebble garden, meditating, chanting, watching TV, perusing my sword collection, singing, dancing, directing, scriptwriting, acting, cooking, eating, snacking, or furthering my appreciation and knowledge of any number of esoteric subjects including but not limited to numismatics, Russian ballet, plasma intelligences, deep space exploration, forgotten recipes, dietary lore, fungi, mollusks and amoebas, telluric currents, mummies, squashes and edible tubers, Victorian diarists, lesser known Eskimo dialects, particle physics and critical theory.

8. DO NOT exercise before, after or in the course of administering or receiving an enema, DIY or otherwise. Again, an obvious rule of thumb, but you never know what will pop into your head during an enema. If the urge to exercise overwhelms you during an enema, try ‘mind blocking’ or any spiritual technique you have practiced before, or, if you want to play it absolutely safe, always have a snack or meal on hand (see above).

9. DO NOT exercise at the behest of fans, loved ones, hecklers, audience members, random passersby, restaurateurs, owners of fast-food eateries, convenience stores, supermarkets or retail outlets, ex-wives, producers, colleagues or members of the medical, scientific or circus communities.

10. DO NOT exercise if you have express written consent from a doctor or trained professional that such exercise would NOT be in the best interests of your health or state of mind, or that such exercise would expose you to embarrassment or ridicule or feelings of isolation, inadequacy, guilt, fear or disorientation, or to sporadic bouts of torpor, capriciousness, spiritual malaise, intense hunger or the craving for unusual foods in atypical quantities (which may in itself lead to the sudden accumulation of fatty deposits throughout the body), or if you are known to suffer from any illness that exercising or preparations for exercise, psychological or otherwise, would aggravate. I myself carry papers of this kind authorized, notarized and translated into most known languages.

Hope the little I can offer may help someone out there. On that note, yesterday’s meals.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Deep fried lettuce (so good I tried it again, 3 points)

Mid-Morning Snack
Ayurveda Rejuvenating Combo Meal (thank you Whole Foods, 4 points) Lunch Herbal Meatballs, 1000 mg Tang (7 points)

Mid-Afternoon Snack
2 boxes wakame wafers with ‘45% reduced fat’ fat (clarified butter will work here, 9 points)

Dinner
Cream (8 points?)

After Dinner Snack
DIY Patio Supports

My weight: 395 lbs

The Hustler

Was on the phone with Gary and Eric Roberts most of yesterday and actually almost skipped lunch, I was so worked up. These guys actually think that just because they’ve agreed to put up the money for my re-make of The Hustler they will have the final say. For obvious reasons I have selected this film as my ‘comeback’ film (and one that will put my God-given directorial talents to the test). Obvious for five reasons: 1) it is a sexy film; 2) I believe I can deliver the emotional impact that was originally lacking in the Newman-Laurie version; 3) I will not get my fingers broken; 4) neither Gary or Eric know how to play pool or direct 5) I have already written the screenplay. Now, keeping that in mind, I would naturally play Fast Eddie (or so I thought) — sexy, emotional, no fingers broken, etc., that’s me. Here is what Gary and Eric had to say about this at the teleconference: I can’t play the Newman character because no matter how perfect I might be for the part, where on earth would they find someone to play Minnesota Fats? (understand here, ‘a Minnesota Fats FATTER than Steven Seagal’). And you think you know people, you think you have ‘friends’. Will keep you posted. Otherwise, not too much to report. Another hectic week of touring with Thunderbox on the horizon. As soon as we hear back from our Pashtun friends in Waziristan, it looks like we’re off again! Tomorrow is Chatto’s birthday, by the way, and I’ve bought him a Shinjuku robe of his own with a little ornamental sword. Hopefully, Gary (can’t count on him for much these days) will stop by with Banroot, as he usually does on Chatto’s birthday, for two-on-two croquet in the pebble garden.

On the dieting front, the cleansing routine has lent a new luster to my complexion and my stools have never been better. Chatto says my jowls are less meaty-looking. Received a fax from Dr. Rangou detailing my arrangements at La Presse en Cordille, and the name of my roommate, an Englishmen named Kelvins. Kelvins, Dr. Rangou tells me, has been to the clinic seven times to date, and so knows the ropes. Naturally, I wasn’t expecting to have a roommate, but Dr. Rangou assured me by e-mail that by the end of the week we’d have so much experience in enema giving and administering that we wouldn’t even need a trained nurse. Hence, Kelvins, my ‘enema buddy’. I look forward to meeting him. Had originally asked David Hasselhoff to be today’s Guest Dieter, but the Hoff called late last night to tell me that he hadn’t really eaten anything yesterday because he hadn’t really left his bed yesterday. He told me to tell my readers, “Hello, from the Hoff.” So, Hello from the Hoff, and enjoy my cleansing diet.

Yesterday's Meals
Breakfast
Deep fried lettuce (4 points)

Mid-Morning Snack
Ayurveda Rejuvenating Tonic, Ayurveda Rejuvenating Brownies (7 points)

Lunch
Cup of tea, 600 mg Calcium Pantothenate (0 points)

Mid-Afternoon Snack
4 wakame wafers (it actually felt more like 1, 3 points)

Dinner
Creamed Algae with Seagreens Wild Seaweed Food Capsule (2 points)

After Dinner Snack
DIY Coffee Cake (6 points)

My weight: 391 lbs

Coffee Enemas, Dieting and Premature Ejaculation: Some Advice from Sensei

I haven’t felt better since Under Siege, and I owe it all to my DIY Coffee Enema. And since I’ve been getting a lot of questions from my friends at Something Awful about enemas and premature ejaculation, I figured I would start with my fan mail. First, premature ejaculation. No, Orgophorex and El Jonso (hope I got the names right this time), I don’t see any reason why enemas can’t improve your sexual performance. There is, of course, plenty of evidence to support this. Number two, judging from what you both told me about your hectic schedules at Kinko’s, you’re likely to be eating ‘on the run’ or at least not giving your bodies the nutrients they deserve. And this, as you say, will definitely impact your scrotum negatively. I myself practice Tantric Yoga, and have for years, so I’ve never ‘ejaculated in my pants just thinking about my favorite website.' A diet, and a cleansed colon, will alleviate nervousness, stress, pre-performance anxiety AND balance out your sexual energy. Which brings us to enemas. A DIY Coffee Enema, or any other DIY enema, works better when you have a second party administering it. I don’t want to go into the details here, but for obvious reasons it’s better to have a friend or partner on hand. Now, you’ve mentioned that because you both live with your mothers, you’re a little anxious about bringing an enema into your house. Well, don’t be. Talk it through with your mothers, and who knows, you might just explain your ‘problem’ (what are the chances that they don’t know anyway?) and ask them to administer your enema for you. An enema isn’t only physical, it’s a spiritual journey to the very bottom of your existence, so don’t think about the mess and start thinking about your chi.

In other news, my cleansing diet is working so well I’ve decided to keep to it, and I encourage the rest of you midnight snackers out there to give it a try. I will try to put up links to various sea greens and colonic irrigation websites. In the meanwhile, since I don’t want to bore you with a repeat of yesterday’s meals, I’ve asked Tito Jackson to be today’s Guest Dieter and to share with us his thoughts on dieting. Tito said:

“Steve, you the man. You the best. You so damn fat and you still trying.”

Thanks, Tito. Tito has been kind enough to share yesterday’s meals with us.

Yesterday’s Meals (Tito Jackson)
Breakfast
40 oz. King Cobra Malt Liquor, Twinkie (14 points)

Mid-Morning Snack
40 oz. King Cobra Malt Liquor (11 points)

Lunch
32 oz. King Cobra Malt Liquor, 3 oz. Sevruga caviar (14 points)

Mid-Afternoon Snack
40 oz. King Cobra Malt Liquor (11 points)

Dinner
Assorted smack with 8 oz. King Cobra Malt Liquor (found in open bottle near recycling bin) and half a bottle of Courvoisier VSOP (22 points?)

Midnight Snack
Pussy (0 points)

Tito had this to say about his meals: “SHIT, man.”

Not the healthiest of diets, but dieting isn’t just about eating what you ‘think’ your body needs. It’s also about exploring what you ‘want’ your body to eat, and, of course, striking a balance between them. I would probably put this down as a ‘shock therapy’. Thanks again, Tito.

My weight: 386 lbs