What's YOUR Colonic of Choice?

Where the hell does the weekend go? I can't believe it's Monday again. I so can't wait for holidays. So this weekend, we just puttered around the house and stuff, nothing exciting to report. However, I do not ever intend to be gross, but since this is a place to share, well, I'm sharing. So this morning I get up and I am craving this Oat Bran cereal that I love so much. Tastes just like Life cereal, but it's Quaker Oat Bran, in nice bite sized little squares, much like Life. However, there is one strange difference - it goes through me like shit through a goose. Strange thing is, I eat REAL oat bran every day, and it doesn't do sweet piss all to me, but this cereal, yowsah, yowsah, yowsah, as Chic would have said (Y'all remember Chic? Dance, Dance, Dance, Le Freak, Good Times.... damn, they were good). Anyway, I know the cereal will give me gas that would kill a small animal and make me run to the can over and over, but do I ever think about that? No. Instead, time and time again, I reach for the stupid cereal and say "Oh, I'll just have a little bowl" and think maybe my luck will be different this time. Well, that's the stupidest thing. So today, I really DID have a little bowl and man, it about killed me. We were outside in the afternoon and Keryn says really loud "Daddy, did you toot? or did Kim poop?" and the neighbors were outside, so I just pretended to sniff Kim's bum and say "oh, she must need her diaper changed." Another odd food that does it to me, and my friend Sharon at work: Any type of Julius from Orange Julius. I got a big one one day, and like 1/2 an hour later I am running to the can, and damn near almost had to light candles in my office because it was just killing me. Well then, one day Sharon and I were going for coffee and we were in the food court of the mall by our office, and she said something like "Well, I think I'll get an enema", meaning the Julius, and I just yelled "You too!?" So I dunno what the hell they are putting in those damn things, but they really gotta stop. So, sorry for the scatological diversion. I just had to share, because, well, I have no shame.
Ok, this has to be short because I have a couple things to do before bed. But, in response to my own post, the "8 Simple Rules for dating my lesbian best friend", I need to start one something like "Men are so fucking dumb sometimes". I am the first to admit it - our minds just aren't really, well, coherent sometimes. So the other day, Sharon and I are out and about again, going for coffee. It was like 11:00, and she wanted to pick up something for her lunch at the Pita place. So we go in there, and she orders this bruchetta pita pizza. Now, for some reason, I get it in my head that Rachel will LOVE this, so I say "hey, I'll get one too, and bring it to her at lunch." So I get the thing, and take it back to work, and the fucking onions alone stunk up my office so bad people were walking around asking what the smell was. So, I take it home, she takes one bite and is like "I don't like it" and asks why i bought it and I was all "Oh, I thought you'd love it" and then she says three simple sentences to me that just totally sums up how men just don't really process anything. She says "Ok, but, I don't like tomatoes. I don't like onions. I don't like bruchetta." I just started laughing because it's true, we both don't like tomatoes unless they are pulverized into sauce or soup or something, and the same with big hunks of onion. And, we both hate bruchetta. I remember this one time, about 10 years ago almost. We were visiting Margo in Calgary and we went to this restaurant where we got this complimentary bruchetta, a portion for each of us. Now, we both hate the shit, but the kitchen was situation like in the middle of the restuarant and the chef is like watching us from this window, so we are smiling and trying to choke it down and it was oh so painful. It was like being in Mel's diner and not being able to gag down his famous chili. Well, except we didn't have Linda Lavin tap dancing and singing with Mel Torme all over the place, and nobody told us to kiss their grits, and there was no stupid dingy walking around talking about parakeets, and Nancy McKeon's older brother with gigantic teeth wasn't there trying to be all cool... but I digress.
So, in a nutshell, sometimes we are, well.... mental.
Anyway, I really gotta run and feed my cat before she electrocutes us both because she's running back and forth in front of the monitor crying, which means she has no food, and her hair and the electricity from the monitor are making me nervous.
Have a good day everyone.
xo
JT