So my beautiful Guru has been here for a few delightful diverting days.
We’ve done fuck all apart from lounge around in our pjs emulating lazy sexual positions and having really deep and meaningful chats.
On her first night on the way up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire (dog in tow):
‘I hope you’re taking one of your cats to bed too… They’re proven to cure brain cancer if you let them sleep on your head.’
‘For fucks sake.’
‘I think we should blow that candle out right now… You’ve breathed in enough toxic paraffin for one night. You need to buy soy candles in future.’
‘Fuck off. My doctor said I can drink neat paraffin if I feel like it.’
An hour later…
‘Right, here’s what you need to do, throw away your laundry detergent and replace it with baking soda and vinegar. Next throw away your dryer sheets and make your own with rags and lavender oil. All that Estee Lauder skincare has to go in the bin and put nothing on your face except what you can eat. Coconut oil all the way baby.’
‘Fuck off… I’d rather die!’
She’s also into juicing lots of green shit and making swamp water and she’s an advocate of eating all kinds of cancer fighting crap I’ve never even heard of.
Some people might say… You haven’t lived until you’ve shit yourself at least once… And I’d die for this woman… But I’m not drinking that pig-pen juice.
Then right before bed the next night, when I went to make my bedtime cup of builders tea I was bombarded with a matronly…
‘This is what you need to drink at bedtime… You need to drink golden milk… It’s turmeric, coconut milk, red hot chilli peppers and something else I can’t remember.’
‘Will you just shut the fuck up!’
I know I need all of Bambi’s baggage dispensed from my brain and there’s various patterns of thought on this.
Go down the hardcore toxic chemical route of radio and chemo and end up sticking to the fridge every time I walk past it.
Or take the gentle holistic route and hope that kale and apricot kernels will do the trick.
My Guru is educating me… Or at least trying to… In the more natural healing kind of way… And I definitely will be taking some of it on board.
I particularly like the hairy coconut balls she makes.
And she gives a bloody good sexy coconut oil massage while she’s hand feeding me the hairy balls.
If anyone wants her secret recipe for these delectable cancer cures (or a coconut Bermudian massage) just send me a cheque for 999999 thousand tax-free Bermuda dollars and I’ll happily forward you her number.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE this girl with ALL MY HEART. And as the old saying goes… ‘Friend’s are like condons – they protect you when things get hard.’
PS. My gorgeous baby boy and my Ab Fab bestie from Chelsea are arriving on another jet plane tonight and I’m dying for a dose of both of them.