I want to start by thanking myself
for deciding the time had come to make my position clear about the dubious joys of watching one of today’s most prominent commercials.
Please don’t misunderstand, I am the first one to run to the drug store eager to take advantage of anything that smacks of “relief”, but saying you give relief and actually PROFFERING it are two entirely different entities.
Whoever came up with those Dulcolax commercials, the ones with that cartoon woman stretched out like some modern day
Cleopatra upon her chaise lounge purring in absolute contentment because Dulcolax has made her bathroom sojourn COMFORTABLE deserves to be tied to the business end of a cow, or have a rear passage examination performed by a beefy man named GUNTHER using
a jackhammer for his probe!
I promised God as I wept upon the procelain throne, if He could sprinkle COMFORT DUST throughout the endless miles of my
Intestinal Tract I would sing "THE LORD'S PRAYER" in my unfortunately off-key voice. I'd get down on bended knee and
HOWL with remorse for all my past transgressions. In other words...I pledged my soul for the comfort that cartoon woman wallows in.
If it is something you HAVE to do, it shouldn’t be so excruciatingly painful!!!
But alas, the only thing ANY of that stuff gives me reminds me of the cramps I used to get before “mental-pause” introduced
hot flashes and the hormonal equivalent of
dry rot into my life…except…
Unless my memory is badly muted by
advancing senility, these cramps are 1000% more intense than those of my misspent
Oh probiotics when are you going to take me away?