The Dark Side...

I can't do it better than this folks...if you have any tissue, get it ready now.

Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.


Colonoscopy Journal:

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.

A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis.

Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.

I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'

I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America's enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.

Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.

Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons). Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.

The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.'

This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.

MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but, have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.

The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.

At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked..

Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.

Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.

There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.

'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me.

'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.

I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.

Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.


On the subject of Colonoscopies...
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous..... A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:

1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!'

2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'

3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'

4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'

5. 'You know, in Arkansas , we're now legally married.'

6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'

7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'

8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'

9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!'

10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'

11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'

12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'

And the best one of all:
13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'

Where Y'at?

Hey y'all...dey's been alotta MAN YAP round heah...figger'd i'd trow in a little curve ball. Got ma Cajun on t'nite, y'all hep y'self to summa dis...



Das rat...Shrimp Etouffee...an it was sum kina good!

Awright! Awright!

Viva la VIEUX CARRÉ!

Hoochie Coochie Man...

DISCLAIMER

The following contains an earworm that will go on immediate loop in your mind for the next few hours...notwithstanding the possibility of the next few days. Click at your own risk...especially if you are a blues fan.


Now...i had to do that as a segway to this story relayed to me by Her Majesty The Queen who was giving The Prince a bath a couple nights ago...

"OK, you're done...let's get you dried off..."

"But...mom!"

"Dude...you've been in there long enough...let's go" as she pulls him out of the tub, sets him dripping on the floor. Whereupon he clinches his fists down to his sides, stands erect, looks up at her and announces very clearly...

"I NEED MY MAN SOAP! HOW CAN I SMELL LIKE A MAN IF YOU DON'T GET ME MY MAN ON!"



Tha's ma boy! Make a Daddy PROUD!

'I got a black cat bone...i got a mojo too...i got a John de Conqueror root...goin mess witchyou... I'm goin' make you girls...lead me by my hand...an the world goin' know...

Aurora Basileius...

Some people hate it when the power goes out...i suppose it depends on the moment, but for the most part...i actually kinda like it. We're just into the 4th quarter of the Sooners vs. KState the other night and... fade to black...everything...gone. The Queen had been feverishly sewing on The Prosecutor's stocking, trying to beat her annual 4th or 5th deadline for this year, the Royals were wrasslin' in the floor, and i was stretched on the couch with one leg on the back, one leg on The General and...zzzzzZZZZZZzzzZZT ... feeble flash....zzzzzt...snuffed.

The Queen: AWWwwwwMAN! I'm getting SO CLOSE!

The Royals: Daddy? What...happened?

Me: Ssssweeet!

I guess i like it because of the quietness, you never realize just how much ambient electrical noise is flowing through your senses until there is none to do so. It always reminds me of the days when The Queen and I became such and our honeymoon in Colonial Williamsburg. There is such a beautiful quiescence there, while all manner of work is still being accomplished. The cooper still making barrels, the smith still heating and hammering, the printer still pressing, the tailor still sewing...all under the peaceful elegance of non-electric taciturn reticence. I loved it. Not that i HATE electricity...its certainly MOST convenient...it makes life SO MUCH easier...but a break from it on occasion is somewhat...rejuvenating for me.

But i have electricity junkies...and when times like these happen one should be prepared.

I had bought some light sticks the other night for camp, but we never got to use them, i thought..."Hey..." So i disappeared into the blackness for a few minutes and reappeared with the magical phosphorescent lumines that attract kids like night bugs around the street lamp. Then another light went off...oh this could be FUN...
Here are the highlights...so to speak...












































and people say you can only see phenomena like that in the North...

You say its your birthday?

Birthday Presents:

1) can't talk about this one
2) new racquetball racquet...with which will aid in shedding all these unwanted cells.
3) accessory's to #2, just to look cool doing it.
4) dinner with the fam and the Flying Dutchman at Outback...where i'm waiting on my prime rib to show up and behold, a shot of Jameson appears magically in front of me...courtesy of my neighbors down the street who happened in, and found out it was my birthday...God bless'em for that!
5) some very cool cards from The Queen and Royals...and Honey and Papa.
6) many, many well wishes via Facebook and email

God bless ya every one!

Goodnight!