I had my first homosexual experience last friday.
I’ve always considered myself quite the deviant, but this time I raised the bar.
1. I had someone enter the back door.
2. I was on so much drugs I don’t even remember the experience.
3. Once they were finished, I paid them.
Top that, sickos.
Dont look at me. I can feel the sting of your judgement. What adults let people to do to them behind closed doors is none of your business. Unless you pay to download it.
As it went, on Friday a very nice man and a couple nurses went spelunking in my colon to see why my tummy hurt so much a few weeks back.
On the positive side I can now say I have something in common with captain super-blogger Tony Pierce. On the down side I also have something in common with Paris Hilton- since the doctor taped it. With night vision.
Afterwards I was sitting in the waiting area, still a bit giddy from the drugs and thanking all that’s good and holy that I had no memory of the ordeal when the Dr. came to deliver the news. Que awkward moment:
“Good news, it was just hemmoroids.”
“um, that’s good?”
“Oh wait. That’s not your file.”
“So that’s some other gentleman’s starfish we’re checking out then, Doc?”
“I’m so sorry. Here’s yours- you have a touch of Diverticulosis. Don’t eat nuts or sunflower seeds and you should be fine.”
Poor mortified Doc left in a hurry since the guy with the photogenic pooper was probably the man sitting two chairs away.
Luckily my file contained only a diagram of my intestines, instead of a full photo spread. And I guess I can deal with cutting out nuts. I’ll miss cashews, but let’s be honest- peanuts got old a long time ago.
My advice: don’t make fun of doctors. If you’re not lucky, some day one might decide he’s had enough and stick a camera up your ass.