It all started just after the election. Yes, THAT election, the one that drove a stake into the heart of die-hard Republicans everywhere, the election that returned Barack HUSSEIN Obama to the office of the Presidency of the United States. Cramps, pain, increasing discomfort in my lower digestive tract. I couldn’t figure it out. Nothing much had changed, I hadn’t been sick, I hadn’t altered my diet. Why was the source of these uncomfortable feelings?
Finally, in utter desperation, I did a cleanse. I know, everyone has heard the rapturous descriptions of how people’s lives are changed from gastric cleansing. Coffee ground-green tea-pomegranate-acai berry purges that scrub you down to your very DNA. Was I sceptical? Yes. Was I desperate?? Oh yes. So I did it, I cleansed. And thank God I did, since I am sure it saved my life. You see, unbeknownst to me, the evil spirit of Rush Limbaugh had possessed my colon. And here’s the proof.
Don’t ask about my solid gold toilet. That is for another day, another post. Suffice it to say it involved an Arab sheik and matters of national security. Look at what emerged from my nether regions following a 3 day uber cleansing of my system!!! I am not crazy! THAT IS RUSH LIMBAUGH!!! Now, I never in a billion, trillion years thought I would post a photo of the contents of my (solid gold) toilet, but how could I keep this miracle to myself? What about my duty to humanity? Now granted, my Rush poop will never be venerated like the Shroud of Turin, the shrine of Lourdes, or the Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese, but I had to record its existence for posterity.
The picture I snapped is all that remains of my fecal phantasmagoria. That, and my everlasting relief that I did that cleanse before the Inauguration. Can you image what would have happened if that had been inside me still, while B. Hussein O. was standing on the steps of the capitol, taking up the reins of power as all the world looked on? Rosemary’s baby meets Alien meets that awful scene from Austin Powers when he accidentally drinks diarrhea. (N.B., If you haven’t already, put down the mocha latte). Happily, that did not come to pass, and I am still here and able to sing along with incomparable Nina Simone.
“It’s a new day, it’s a new dawn, it’s a new life for me…and I’m feeeeeeeeelin’ good.”