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m3830431
Contributor
This is from Newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenteritis, 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, quote, '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' has 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.
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenteritis, 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, quote, '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' has 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.
OP
sandshaker
Contributor
Never Cheat on a Hillbilly Woman
In West Virginia a hillbilly's wife came home just in time to find her husband in bed with another woman. With super-human strength, borne of fury, and cutting firewood, she dragged him down the stairs, out the back door, and into the tool shed out back of the barn. She put his tally-whacker in a vise and then secured it tightly and removed the handle. Next she picked up an old carpenter's saw.
The banged up hillbilly was terrified and hollered, 'Stop! Stop! You're not gonna cut it off with that rusty saw, are you?'
The wife, with a gleam of revenge in her eye, put the saw in her husband's hand and said, 'Nope. I'm gonna set this old shed on fire, and go to town for a cold beer. You do whatever you want.'
In West Virginia a hillbilly's wife came home just in time to find her husband in bed with another woman. With super-human strength, borne of fury, and cutting firewood, she dragged him down the stairs, out the back door, and into the tool shed out back of the barn. She put his tally-whacker in a vise and then secured it tightly and removed the handle. Next she picked up an old carpenter's saw.
The banged up hillbilly was terrified and hollered, 'Stop! Stop! You're not gonna cut it off with that rusty saw, are you?'
The wife, with a gleam of revenge in her eye, put the saw in her husband's hand and said, 'Nope. I'm gonna set this old shed on fire, and go to town for a cold beer. You do whatever you want.'
The Anchor
Contributor
Dear Padre,
As I walked down the busy footpath, knowing I was late for an important meeting My eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless vagabonds that are found in every city these days.
Wearing what can only be describes as rags, carrying every worldly possession in two plastic bags, my heart was touched by this person's condition.
Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.
Recalling some long ago Sunday School admonition to "care for the sick, feed the hungry and clothe the naked," I was moved by some powerful inner urge to reach out to this unfortunate person.
Yes, where some people saw only rags, I saw a hidden beauty. A small voice inside my head called out, "Reach out, reach out!" . . .
So , I did..........
I won't be in Church on Sunday
As I walked down the busy footpath, knowing I was late for an important meeting My eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless vagabonds that are found in every city these days.
Wearing what can only be describes as rags, carrying every worldly possession in two plastic bags, my heart was touched by this person's condition.
Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.
Recalling some long ago Sunday School admonition to "care for the sick, feed the hungry and clothe the naked," I was moved by some powerful inner urge to reach out to this unfortunate person.
Yes, where some people saw only rags, I saw a hidden beauty. A small voice inside my head called out, "Reach out, reach out!" . . .
So , I did..........
I won't be in Church on Sunday
Attachments
m3830431
Contributor
A Mexican, an Arab, and a redneck girl are in the same bar.
When the Mexican finishes his beer, he throws his glass in the air, pulls out his pistol, and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, 'In Mexico , our glasses are so cheap we don't need to drink with the same one twice.'
The Arab, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws it into the air, pulls out his AK-47, and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, 'In the Arab World, we have so much sand to make glasses that we don't need to drink with the same one twice either.'
The redneck girl, cool as a cucumber, picks up her beer, downs it in one gulp, throws the glass into the air, whips out her 45, and shoots the Mexican and the Arab. Catching her glass, setting it on the bar, and calling for a refill, she says,
'In America we have so many illegal aliens that we don't have to drink with the same ones twice.'
' God Bless America
When the Mexican finishes his beer, he throws his glass in the air, pulls out his pistol, and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, 'In Mexico , our glasses are so cheap we don't need to drink with the same one twice.'
The Arab, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws it into the air, pulls out his AK-47, and shoots the glass to pieces. He says, 'In the Arab World, we have so much sand to make glasses that we don't need to drink with the same one twice either.'
The redneck girl, cool as a cucumber, picks up her beer, downs it in one gulp, throws the glass into the air, whips out her 45, and shoots the Mexican and the Arab. Catching her glass, setting it on the bar, and calling for a refill, she says,
'In America we have so many illegal aliens that we don't have to drink with the same ones twice.'
' God Bless America
OP
sandshaker
Contributor
^^ I have seen this b4... It alwayz makes me freakin' laugh!!!
DivingPrincessE
Contributor
Bullfrogs & **** jobs
A woman went into a store to buy her husband a pet for his birthday. After looking around, she found that all the pets were very expensive. She told the clerk she wanted to buy a pet, but she didn't want to spend a fortune.
'Well,' said the clerk, 'I have a very large bullfrog. They say this frog has been trained to give **** jobs!'
‘**** jobs?!' the woman replied.
'It hasn't been proven but we've sold 30 of them this month and have had no returns!' he said.
The woman thought it would be a great gag gift, and what if it was true....no more **** jobs for her!
She bought the frog.
When she explained froggy's ability to her husband, he was extremely skeptical and laughed it off.
The woman went to bed happy, thinking she may never have to give another **** job in her life.
In the middle of the night, she was awakened by the noise of pots and pans flying everywhere, making hellacious banging and crashing sounds. She ran downstairs to the kitchen, only to find her husband and the frog reading cookbooks and tearing the kitchen apart.
'What are you two doing at this hour?' she asked.
The husband replied,
'If I can teach this frog to cook, your @ss is gone.'
A woman went into a store to buy her husband a pet for his birthday. After looking around, she found that all the pets were very expensive. She told the clerk she wanted to buy a pet, but she didn't want to spend a fortune.
'Well,' said the clerk, 'I have a very large bullfrog. They say this frog has been trained to give **** jobs!'
‘**** jobs?!' the woman replied.
'It hasn't been proven but we've sold 30 of them this month and have had no returns!' he said.
The woman thought it would be a great gag gift, and what if it was true....no more **** jobs for her!
She bought the frog.
When she explained froggy's ability to her husband, he was extremely skeptical and laughed it off.
The woman went to bed happy, thinking she may never have to give another **** job in her life.
In the middle of the night, she was awakened by the noise of pots and pans flying everywhere, making hellacious banging and crashing sounds. She ran downstairs to the kitchen, only to find her husband and the frog reading cookbooks and tearing the kitchen apart.
'What are you two doing at this hour?' she asked.
The husband replied,
'If I can teach this frog to cook, your @ss is gone.'
m3830431
Contributor
"I was married 3 times" explained the man to a newly discovered drinking partner, "and I'll never marry again. My first 2 wives died of eating poison mushrooms and my 3rd wife died of a fractured skull." "That's a shame." said his friend , "How did it happen?" "She wouldn't eat the ****ing mushrooms!"
pidgiepoo
Contributor
HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT
The following is an actual question given on University ofWashington chemistry mid term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+
The following is an actual question given on University ofWashington chemistry mid term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell,then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+
In the immortal words of the flowerpot: "Oh no, not again".
I am trying hard, very hard, to resist.
See page 77 for details.
I am trying hard, very hard, to resist.
See page 77 for details.
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