Monday, November 15, 2004

Shock and Awe

Why is it that we can shoot incoming nuclear missiles out of mid-air with frickin’ laser beams but we can’t develop a shopping cart that doesn’t have to be muscled out of its fervent desire to veer left into the bok choi?

I am able to allow my mind to wander off on tangential thinking like this because I have cleansed myself of the evil warlord Constipation. Ding dong, the shit is dead. I killed it, and in my desire to show solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Iraq, I mimicked many of their physical and spiritual strategies, starting with giving the enemy a name: Osama. Rather appropriate, no?

Here’s what else I did:

1) Before I swallowed my first dose of stool softener, I took out a little ball point pen and wrote the following message on the pill: “You’re in deep shit now, Osama.” If the American military can writes messages on bombs, I think it shows great support and unity when I write messages on my poo medicine. After all, we’re both trying to blow away a little shit.

2) I called the local newspaper and invited them to send over a correspondent who would be “embedded” with my troops to cover the battle. They declined, although they did send a representative to hand-deliver an official correspondence. What’s a “Cease and Desist” order?

3) I swore in Left-Handed Power-Hitting Son as my Minister of Propaganda. He sat with me in the bathroom as the battle raged, emerging from time to time to deliver updates and the official coalition position on the offensive. For example, “Oh, nasty! Mommy, daddy’s going poo-poo and it smells like that baloney sandwich I left in the garage for a few weeks last summer. I think I’m gonna hurl!”

4) Every time I swallowed one of the little stool softener pills, I shouted “Fire in the hole!” at the top of my lungs.

5) Just like the American military command, I ordered my Minister of Propaganda to drastically overestimate the enemy casualties. “Mom, daddy says he just broke his second plunger of the day and he needs you to go to Home Depot and get a new one. And he needs another 24-pack of TP, stat!” I also prohibited the broadcast or publication of any photo showing my own dead and wounded, just like the US government does. This means you’re not going to be able to see pictures of my swollen, red bunghole. Sorry.

5 Comments:

At 1:38 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dude I am sooo happy you are feeling better. I was afraid you'd become too ill to post and you are so damn funny.

Baked beans, man, half a cup and poop will FLY out.

 
At 2:36 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

SOMEONE watched Austin Powers last night. I'll bet...ONE MILLION DOLLARS!

Jejn

 
At 3:23 PM, Blogger honestyrain said...

did i forget to tell you that i have the tummy flu and all references to food or bodily functions are strictly off topic. ya want me on my knees in the toilet barfing again BUT THIS TIME thinking of you and your poo? that's so not nice.

 
At 8:58 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

At least it wasn't "hot boiling diarreah".

Why does Johnny Cash singing Ring of Fire play thru my mind lately?

I found you thru Dooce btw..as if you couldn't tell.
~Moxie

 
At 12:02 AM, Blogger HDawg said...

Dawg, keep it up, we are rolling on the floor over here. love ya!

 

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