The title of this blog strikes fear into the hearts and minds of many including me. It's not so much I mind some dude shoving a cattle prod up my rear. It's the preparation involved that's a pain in the butt.
Prep liquids used to come in an 8 oz. bottle called Fleet. Then, some bureaucratic nitwit decided the product damaged the liver so it was banned. Know what? If someone wanted to damage their liver and clean out their bowels at the same time they could slam down a fifth of whiskey. It's an easy fix. Evidently, Gatorade us now used as a prep drink with powered garbage in it. That sounds better than chugging water with powered garbage.
As is typical my 8:40 am appointment spread out to 9:45 before I saw the doctor. I wonder why that is always the case. Wouldn't it be wonderful if you visited any type of MD and immediately the nurse says, "the doctor is waiting for you"? The only way I can see this happening is if a Playboy Playmate was the patient.
My Doc is a kid, forty-four. I told him if he wanted to make a lot of money he showed have the offices open up 24/27 and only see Democrats. They'd never run out of people who needed their heads pulled out of their asses.