A Long Shitty Day
Yeah, Sunday is going to be one long shitty day. A real anus pounder. I'm not talking Big Mac.
Preparation for Monday's colonoscopy. That's what I'm talking about.
Sunday at two rolls around. I run outside to warn the neighborhood, 'LET'S GET READY TO RUUMMMMBLE!"
I'll run back inside and start downing the contents of a gallon of Coylte known to people I hang with as a weapon of mass destruction. For those who have never sampled this fine brand of liquid, the combination of the Dulcolax and Colyte are designed to completely empty the colon. We're not talking semi-colon either. It won'e be a matter of whether to shit or get off the pot. It's a matter of not getting off the pot for a very long time. It will feel like you've been turned inside out.
Here's the rule for mass consumption of this crap (no pun intended): Drink one 8 ounce glass of this shit every 10 minutes. Yes, every 10 minutes. Do this until, as the directions state, "your watery stool is clear and has no solid matter." Watery stool? My eyes will be watering, too!
Oh joy. Having done this before it takes most of the gallon of Colyte before your your anus screams out: ALL CLEAR! NOW FOR PETE'S SAKE GIVE ME A REST!!
Ya gotta be prepared for many many many trips to the head. There has to be lots of TP, too. Lots. Wifey has our guest bathroom prepared well. .. as I've been banned from using the masterbath until Mr. Anus gives the all clear signal.
Damn, wouldn't you know that NFL playoff football is tomorrow. I will not be able to eat a single chicken wing or slice of pizza let alone a couple of beers. No eating solids. Only clear liquids. . . .hmmm...is beer a clear liquid? Gotta check this one out. There may be a bright spot tomorrow.
In case I run out of clear liquid beer or toilet paper Wifey has rented a four wheeled vehicle for me. I'll be able to pull up to the drive in liquor store and order up any clear liquid they have. If there are cramps, no problem! BOOOF! right there and then!! The liquor store guy will likely say, "Did I hear something?" And I'll say, "Naw, just my vehicle backfiring."
I'm thinking I've got to wear Wifey's split crotch panties if I have to drive this thing. It's gotta be convenient. . . can't be dropping your drawers in public. That could get me busted.
Come Monday morning it's go to the surgery center come 6:30 a.m. At 7:30 the good doctor will look at his assistant and say like any good submarine commander:
Get ready to dive.
ALL SAILORS: THE SMOKING LAMP IS OUT!
Dive! Dive Dive!!!
Okay, let's up periscope!
I'm thinking Sunday and Monday are going to be the shits. But what the hell? What else do I have to do?