Hellthy.

I have been to hell.

I'm not saying I've been to hell and back because I haven't. I have yet to return from hell. I am in hell right now and, you know what, it's really unpleasant. Hell is not the hot party town full of the decadent people that the Bible would let you think. On the contrary. Hell's rubbish. But I'm here for a good reason. Or a bad one, I haven't made up my mind. Stupidly, I've decided to go on a 5-day detox.

5 days. 5 whole days with no booze, no caffeine, no dairy, no wheat, no happiness, no joy. It started yesterday so I still have 4 more versions of boring, boring yesterday to follow. I ate fruit yesterday. FRUIT. Not chocolate or anything. No. FRUIT. Loads of it. Plums, apples, bananas and...erm...what are those really tiny oranges called? You know, the tiny oranges? Christmas fruit, that's right. God, I ate so much fruit yesterday because yesterday was boring and awful and lonely and frustrating and, fuck me, it was dull. Did you know that some people actually go every single day without beer, chocolate, Diet Coke, bread, cheese and breakfast wine? That's how they live their icy cold, jet black lives. Yet they claim to be happy. LIARS! They go to work after eating nuts and berries and sit in their office making yearly plans and improvement charts and instead of eating chips for lunch they go to the cunting gym where they will meet more robots built by the same tedious Professor Dickhead like they were and then they will stay late in the office, NOT BECAUSE THEY WERE TOLD TO BUT BECAUSE THEY FUCKING WANT TO, and then fucking cycle home instead of rushing to the pub to forget, forget, forget. Then they will steam some awful inedible beige cloth that they claim is food and eat it while watching Grey's Anatomy before drinking a glass of water and going to bed at 10.30 instead of drinking beer all alone and watching Family Guy and repeating "That's a shame" all over Russell Howard's Good News. Then the cunts wake up the next day and happily do it all over again.

I'm on a 5-day detox and, yes I might be overreacting, but I hate it. It's not like I pour awful shit down my throat excessively every day but I was designed to be lazy and things that are convenient to eat or drink are my favourite things to devour. Muesli just looks like a chore to eat. Toast and peanut butter is easy and delicious but basically wheat (which the whole fucking world is allergic to, apparently) and fat. A salad is just so much effort to make and has very little to give back once you've done it whereas chips are just there. Ready and waiting. Mmmmmm...tasty and it might kill me. That's how I like my food, like I like my women: Delicious, deadly and unwrapped. With vinegar. And bread and butter. And given to me by a man who never washes his hands.

4 useless, dull days to go. It will be interesting only to see if I do it without cheating at all. I'm on at the London Comedy Improv at The Phoenix tonight and that will be a test. I normally turn up there and eat unhealthy, lovely food and then there is the booze, booze, booze afterwards. Probably best for me to bolt out the door as soon as the show is finished.

I mean, it's only 4 days, right? 4 days is easy. And I'm giving up all this bad stuff simply because ...erm ...God, I have no idea why I'm doing this.

www.twitter.com/michaellegge
www.preciouslittlepodcast.co.uk