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Lake Stevens, Man About Town

This Just In!

By Lake Stevens, Man About Town
August 24, 2005

Summer is Fattening

My Magnum I recently eased out of my 100% imported Tibetan silk pajamas (hand loomed by the same artisan who made the pajamas for the Dalai Lama before his exile) and into my favorite pair of Ralph Lauren dungarees. My mind was still a bit foggy after a night of Kumamoto oysters and sake with "the wife" and Tom Selleck. Who knew he could drink like that? I recommended that he grow his mustache back like when he was in Magnum P.I. I do love a man with a full head of hair...especially one named Magnum. It gives me the shivers every time. I was so occupied with thoughts of Tom's silken chest hair that I didn't realize my fingers were still fumbling with the button fly of my dungarees. I was shaken rudely from my reverie when I realized the problem at hand: I could not fasten the top button! There must be some mistake.

I angrily turned to my valet, who occasionally helps me dress when Javier is off impregnating someone or whatever he does when he takes a "personal" day. Before the valet could compose his face into the emotionless mask I expect The Help to wear at all times (it allows me to forget the twelve kids he probably has stuffed into a single room efficiency in Reseda), a small, but perceptible, giggle escaped his lips. I tried again to close up the jeans, but did no better the second time. Another glance at the valet was rewarded with another little giggle.

"Roberto, is this some sort of sick Spic joke to humiliate me? How dare you switch my favorite dungarees with these impostors!" That got his attention. He knows I mean business whenever I use his given name instead of the usual "boy."

"No, Señor Lake. Es your favorito pair of jeans."

Kyra and Kevin The dirty liar! I discarded the dungarees and immediately grabbed a crisply ironed trouser that Marta had readied for me in preparation for my afternoon sail with Kevin and Kyra. This pair also refused to fasten. I ordered Roberto to strip me naked and called for the bathroom scale. My mouth hung open in horror when I saw the numerical evidence for myself. I, Lake Stevens, had gained weight! I dare say I could almost be considered "chubby." Of course "the wife" chose this moment to return from "her" yoga lesson. How could "she" be so thin and lithe when I was facing the terrible reality of a...no, I couldn't say it. I despised "her" more than anything as "she" mopped up the faintest sheen of perspiration from her upper lip. "Skinny bitch!" I yelled as "she" left for "her" sauna.

Gunnar Peterson felt up my wife The truth of how this happened slowly unfolded as I waited for The Help to fetch my kimono (at least I knew that would fit). First, I had been forced to fire Gunnar Peterson, Trainer of the Stars, when I caught him getting too chummy with "the wife" on the elliptical machine in our home gym. "She's" still harping that no one had been able to trim down "her" saddlebags like Gunnar did. I told "her" that cutting back on the shortbread cookies and White Russians "she" consumes in front of The Hallmark Channel every night couldn't hurt either. With my hectic schedule of interviews, photo shoots and hairdressing appointments, I never found time to enlist another man to work me over and mold my body.

There must be some mistake. As I tied the kimono sash around my middle, I decided that the bigger culprit is the season itself. In addition to white wine spritzers and simple suppers, summer is consumed by frozen custard, hand-crafted gelato, loganberry pies topped with spiky peaks of meringue, Australian-style barbequed steaks...well, you get the idea. I suppose the weeks I spent summering with Paris and Paris in Greece didn't help either. All that goat's milk! I guzzled it by the gallon.

Now I faced the uphill battle of transforming my figure back into fighting shape. Normally I would just ask my doctor for a few bottles of those fantastic yellow pills he keeps padlocked in his garage. Even when I pounded on his door at three AM four nights Mother's Little Helpers in a row, he refused to give me any more; he claims the feds are getting suspicious. I think the good doctor just wants them all for himself. I can't really blame him -- those little vitamins were a godsend. I dropped weight like a Sudanese in a refugee camp and still had enough energy to shop, paint the spare bedroom, attend a marathon 12-hour Kabbalah awakening and rearrange all the furniture on the back terrace.

Since my doctor wouldn't help me, I was forced to resign myself to losing weight the old fashioned way: by dieting and laxatives. I have experimented with numerous diets over the years, always in search of that illusive 32-inch waist and a body deserving of worship. All have fallen short.

No more.

The Grapefruit Diet

I bought exclusive rights to a grapefruit harvest from an organic Florida grove when I began this diet. Despite the delicious burst of fruit juice I enjoyed at every meal, I failed to lose weight. Why didn't anyone tell me that using it as a mixer in my imported Polish potato vodka wouldn't help me drop the pounds? How else was I to stomach that much grapefruit? (Actually, I did loose a little weight after I became so drunk by mid-morning that I passed out and didn't eat a bite for the rest of the day and most of the next.)

And you thought asparagus made it taste bad.

Cabbage Soup Diet

Seven days of cabbage soup. I had to cancel my colonics; they failed to be necessary after seven days of cabbage soup.

Apple Cider Vinegar Diet

Vinegar Diet

Lulu at the homeopathic salon "the wife" and I pop into every now and again promised that I could lose weight by consuming unnatural amounts of apple cider vinegar. I stopped once I began to take on that sour smell of senior citizen and urinals.

My morning pick-me-up I also flirted with the Pritikin, Blood Type, South Beach and Zone diets before starting a torrid affair with Dr. Atkins. I ate nothing but foie gras for weeks and still did not lose weight. "The wife" told me I needed to eat steak and no vegetables or breads. That meant no tomato juice in my morning Bloody Mary! Then I read about the effects of Atkins on the body. Ketosis was caused by the build-up of ketone in the body, which is the same thing as acetone. I was tempted to just drink a bottle of nail polish remover. No wonder the Filipino women at my mani-pedi salon are sooo thin. Instead I opted for a stiff martini and a massage -- Lars owed me a favor.

Erin Gray

The Hollywood Celebrity Diet

While thumbing through the latest edition of In Touch, it hit me. It was so obvious I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it first. My fellow celebrities would serve as my "thinspiration." Celebrities have hawked dozens of weightloss systems over years. Who can forget actress/model Erin Gray and her Hollywood Celebrity Diet? The infomercial was Erin's triumphant return to the small screen after such classics as Silver Spoons and Battle of the Network Stars 1979 - 1981. The Hollywood Celebrity Diet works through a system of juice and "star bars" to help you fight the hunger cravings. Personally I would be happier eating opium.

Somersize Me!

The Somersize System

Suzanne Somers also promised amazing results with her system. The Somersize System replaced evil refined sugars with SomerSweet, a sugar substitute made by evil refined oligofructose, insulin, fructose, sprouted mung bean extract and Acesulfame-K. Of that list, I only recognized mung beans. (In 1987, I tried the Mung Bean Diet. I became mysteriously plagued with chronic diarrhea and had to abandon it.)

She's going to get there.

The Teri Hatcher: "Jog Yourself Thin" Diet

I would try this but Lake does not "jog." I have only run once in the past eight years and that was into Barney's for the semi-annual exotic fur sale. Teri claims her weight loss is the result of a busy schedule and her tendency to "forget to eat" (aka anorexia). However a day does not go by that one does not see Teri jogging the lanes and walks of greater Los Angeles. Once I was curious and followed her in my Miata. The woman jogged all the way to Santa Barbara. Then she forced herself to vomit. Such perseverance!

The Lindsay Lohan-MK Olsen Famine Diet

I can't see all her ribs...time to start fasting again. This diet works on the principle of the body's natural response to famine. Don't eat, loose weight. I am unsure that I want to look like a poster child for a Live Aid Concert, but the results are there in full color -- these ladies look thin and -- I was about to say fabulous -- but let's just stick with thin. The best part of the Famine Diet is if you become emaciated enough, Angelina Jolie will adopt you. Imagine Brad Pitt as your Daddy! I can.

The Famine Diet Eventually I realized Erin Gray, Suzanne Somers and even Lindsay's methods would not work for me -- their fame was just too fleeting. Even though Nancy in Kenosha, WI swears that the Hollywood Celebrity Diet worked for her, I couldn't be sure that it would work for me. My sophisticated urban lifestyle has caused my body to develop a different chemistry than someone who hails from a state most famous for its dairy products. Besides, I needed something fast, something quick, something with guaranteed results that I could see in my full length mirror in a matter of days.

Matthew Perry A few weeks passed without a solution. I was starting to feel defeated. I would soon be forced to lunch with Courtney Love and Matthew Perry. As plus-size outcasts in a city full of glamourous 'thinspiring' celebrities, we would be seated at the worst table at The Ivy -- the one by the kitchen. I was just starting to consider suicide when I saw IT. My listless page turning in Us Weekly suddenly brought me face to face with perfection. Nicole Richie's physique taunted me. Since losing all that "rehab" fat, she has achieved the exact look that sends my heart racing with envy. I too would look like a pre-pubescent boy! It only took a few calls to learn Nicole's secret.

The Richie Diet

At least I don't look like a pig anymore, like, right?

Day 1: Cocaine, vodka, cocaine, a sensible dinner of fruit loops and some more vodka followed by one more tiny pinch of cocaine before bedtime. The Richie Diet

Day 2: Take enough coke to make it through a taping of your reality TV show (serving portions may vary). Then order a drink with a fruit garnish for dinner.

Days 3-5: Repeat Day 2.

Weekend:  Gorditas Weekend: Gorge on Taco Bell Gorditas followed by enough cocaine to allow you to dance off all the calories at The Sky Bar. When you make your frequent trips to the bathroom, have your bodyguard barricade the door so that non-celebrities won't ask for any of your cocaine.

I tried The Richie Diet for a few days. I did see dramatic weight loss, but it also meant waking up in a strange hotel room with a penis near my face. I think I will just find a new doctor -- one that that isn't stingy with those great little pills.

-Lake Stevens, Man About Town
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