Ok this is goin‘ up a day late, but I just got a new PC from work and I had to rearrange the entire household computer network. It only cost $100 and it was only a couple of years old. It’s a good thing our IT guy doesn’t know how to maintain PC’s, otherwise I’d never get such a great deal.
I cleaned up the hard drive, got rid of the slack space, and de-fragmented; it’s like a brand new computer! Then I added some SDRAM drive and it has three times the SDRAM and speed as my previous best computer. And since I got such a great deal, I got Windows “Vista” for the basement computer, I getta‘ play around with that for a while. This is all very exciting for me.
What’s not so exciting is my horrible stomach pains. I’ve been going to the Dr. for the last six months and he can’t figure it out. About an hour after I eat, no matter how small the meal is, my stomach growls.
One time in a meeting, it growled and churned viciously and I said, “excuse me.”
Someone across the table said, “That was you! I thought it was an airplane passing by.”
Then another time I’m walking across the parking lot and, “Grammmmbbbleeeee – streeeeeecccchhhhhhhh – couuuuuuuuuuuchunka!”
“BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP!”
A fucking car alarm goes off!
So all fed up about the mystery, the Doctor had me go get some kind of special image of the inside of my stomach. They give me a chalky-milky-thick liquid to drink. It’s barium.
Then they strap me to this table all Frankenstein like and the table turns in different angles to mix the barium in me tummy and they take some type of imaging that is enhanced by the milky-chalk.
Seems like it would be a lot cheaper to have a hypnotist, hypnotize me. First they would tell you the barium is a chocolate shake, then they could just tell you to jump up and down and roll over like a dog. That would be a hell of a lot cheaper than strapping you to a half million dollar bed that rolls around so you don’t have too.
For me, it would be even cheaper – I have no pride. If they told me to roll around the floor to mix the barium in me tummy, I would have – hell, why not.
Well the test was fine and yadda–yadda–yadda, they found nothing. My stomach ailment was eventually cured, but that was by accident and my doctor doesn’t even take credit.
But the most wonderful thing about the whole ordeal happened that night. It was time for my daily bowel movement. So everything was set up the way it always is.
I put relaxing Yanni in the CD player, lighted several strawberry scented candles and turned off the lights. I made sure there was plenty of triple-ply tissue and proceeded to sit and meditate. I want to have a relaxing, beautiful, experience when I release feces.
I don’t want to blow a gasket!
As everything eventually came together, I heard a familiar plop. But something was different. The smell of a dozen decomposing dead crack whores wasn’t emanating from the toilette! I thought, perhaps I was in such a deep meditative trance that I imagined the plop. I stood and looked and there it was!
A lovely, white, odorless turd. For a moment, I was speechless.
I looked up to the heavens thru my sky-light, “This must be what and Angel shit is like. Thank you God. Thank you for this heavenly gift.”
I examined it one more time, “My God…”
“…it’s full of stars.”
And now you know.
COMING NEXT: GOOSE-STEPPING TO THE REPUBLICAN WAR MACHINE!