I don’t know what happened, but I think I ended up with a bizarre diet. I eat the exact same few foods every single day, in an effort to drive off the spleen and regulate the circulation, and so on . . . to keep from throwing myself upon the sword.
For breakfast I eat two apples with a tablespoon of peanut butter, two mandarins, 25 oz. of green tea (the capacity of my thermos~), and a cup of black coffee.
For lunch I eat some sort of vegetarian chili. Once a week I go to this place on Shattuck and get a tofu banh mi. I only go once a week because, hey presto, I only eat bread once a week. Whoa!
At night, around 9 pm, I fill a big wooden bowl with this:
- basmati rice and / or quinoa
- black beans and / or pinto beans
- half a red bell pepper
- half an avocado
- diced red onion
- white button mushrooms
- one hardboiled egg
- one scrambled egg
- fried tofu in avocado oil
- chipotle and verde salsa
It kind of looks like hippie dog food, and I’m sure the whole thing weighs about five pounds. I sit there and I eat the whole thing. I don’t think I’ve ever not eaten the whole thing.
SOME TIME LATER, around midnight, I do a bunch of pushups and pull-ups and kettle bell things. Then a make a smoothie:
- frozen strawberries
- frozen blueberries
- frozen blackberries
- frozen raspberries
- one banana
- a wad of peanut butter
- chocolate whey protein powder
- two cups of coconut milk
. . . and I blend the whole thing together and chill real hard drinking the entire blender’s worth of COLD RED LIQUID, which is filled to the brim with that stuff, god love it.
Outside of whey protein, I don’t eat any dairy at all. I don’t eat bread outside of that one day I go to the cafe where they know my name and start making my sandwich as soon as I walk in the door. I don’t eat meat. I don’t eat anything with processed / added sugar. And I go to a bar, or wander around the Berkeley Hills drinking PIG WINE all by myself, well—I’m only allowed to do that if I have exercised at least three times that week, or at least plan to!!
And if I get HUNGRY along the way, I just eat a fuckin apple or an entire bag of broccoli or an entire thing of asparagus. Am I scaring you?? Do I sound like an insane loser? Yeah. Thing is, my diet is just about all I’m disciplined about, because the rest of my life is a nightmarish cartwheeling freak show. OK? I need the structure of cheap colorful vitamin-dense raw food to keep me straight at least a little bit, because
I HAVE BEEN EXPERIMENTING WITH CONTROLLED SUBSTANCES TO SEE DARKLY INTO THE OTHER WORLD
A frog in a well cannot conceive of the ocean, and I want to see the thing, what it is, and if I’m going to get there by swallowing clear liquids from an unknown source I bought from a guy in Golden Gate Park, and eat mind-expanding fungi, and so on, I gotta maintain this dumbass thing my ghost lives inside of. And I may as well consume colorful watery fruits and vegetables to get the job done, rather than prepackaged sawdust prepared in sterile warehouses by unfeeling robots. Did you know the first ingredient in a Slim Jim is “mechanically-separated chicken”? What the fuck is that? Why does the FDA require a distinction between regular old chicken and chicken which has had robot claws all over it? Anyway don’t eat stuff like that . . . but do name your band Mechanically-Separated Chicken.
Well . . . bye!