Preparing for the Test

I’ve prepared for many tests in my life:  SAT… GRE… the final exam to my Rocket Science 801 class. 

They were all frolics in the park compared to preparing for a Colonoscopy.  

(For those of you not familiar with a Colonoscopy, imagine a camera going on a hike through your netherlands; the trail head is your tush.)

To prepare for a Colonoscopy, you must completely empty the contents of your colon to make it squeaky clean.  

Please allow me to mention that a colon is 5 stinkin’ feet long.  (Which means, in my case, it about reaches to my eyelashes.)

The prep involves drinking a massive container of the most vile tasting liquid ever concocted: a bubbly mixture of fluids drained from an autopsy table combined with bleu cheese.

The instructions suggest that you hold your nose as you drink it.  

Good call.

But it works.   Minutes after I drained the glass, I relocated to the bathroom where, for the next 4 hours, I achingly excreted everything I’d eaten over the past 90 days.  

And then I HAD TO DRINK ANOTHER GALLON OF THE AUTOPSY JUICE. 

After choking down the second gallon, I hobbled back to my home away from home.  I fully expected it to be a waste of time, since there was clearly nothing remaining inside me, except a few worn out organs. 

But I was sorely wrong.  And angry.  I looked down at the contents of the toilet bowl accusingly, “Where are you coming from?”  I growled.

Well.  That stinkin' Autopsy Juice was so effective,  I pooped out food that was on next week’s shopping list.  For that matter, I pooped out everything I considered eating in the next 5 years.   And Chris Christie’s breakfast.  

I continued to purge for 4 more hours until all that remained of me was a stinky pile of skin and bones.

You know what?  The whole process wouldn’t have been nearly as bad if I didn't have to drink that damn Autopsy Juice. 

Or if Autopsy Juice tasted good.  Like wine.  Or Margaritas.

Or Gummy Bears.

Next time I need a Colonoscopy I’m ordering myself some Haribo Gummy Candy Sugarless Gummy Bears. Believe me.  I’ve done my homework.  I’ve read the reviews on Amazon.com and these guys work just as well as Autopsy Juice.  

But they taste great!  And look at these amazing reviews!

"I ate a bag of those b*tches once. Once. What occurred later can only be described with words like volcanic confetti."  


"When I got these, I couldn't contain my excitement and I ate about a quarter of a bag. There would have been less pressure to make two winning free throws in the NBA finals than for gas to escape my bowels. This kind of diarrhea made me think of a new invention.... seat belts for the toilet. I had such diarrhea that I was producing thrust."

"They made my dog pass out."

One woman apparently gave them to her son.

"My eyes focused on my son. Still laying in bed. His bed. It looked like a crime scene. A crime scene where the blood is brown...and stinky. His Thomas the Train bed was sprayed with the brown poo-water. His sheets, his pillow, his Winnie The Pooh (ironic?) stuffed animal.  The poo-juice had covered my sweet son's hair, streaked across his face. The folds of his chubby little legs."

This review came from a true Philanthropist:

"I will hand these out on Halloween.  Just doing my part to end childhood obesity."

I, too, fancy myself a Philanthropist.  I am always looking for ways to "give back" to my readers.  To that end, I am in the process of developing an awareness campaign targeted at Gastroenterologists to introduce them to Haribo Gummy Candy, Sugarless Gummy Bears:  A delicious alternative to Autopsy Juice.
 
You’re welcome.