Sometimes life is shit. That pun wrote itself so I won't pay anymore attention to it. We can move on.
But what do you do when you feel like Josh Peck before he lost weight and became vine famous? How do you deal when you feel like Danny Tamberelli? Do you even remember Danny Tamberelli? (Hint: Rewind to 1997 when you stayed up until 8pm with the other heathens and watched "All That". Remember "Figure It Out." That human earthworm was my first crush. Please send me money for therapy).
Faced with the undeniably sexual prospect of starving myself for two days, drinking the seed of Satan (or what doctors call, "MoviPrep,") and having a camera attached to a pipe cleaner shoved up my ass, I had two choices. Cry about my hunger and intestines disintegrating like a popped balloon animal - or own it.
How in the Lord's name on his holy day do I make a colonoscopy bearable? you might ask. Let me take you through these three simple steps. If you can survive this, you will be immortal. You will be like Cher. You will haunt twitter (IN ALL CAPS and with GRATUITOUS EMOJIS) and wear eyeliner made out of the ash from the Salem Witch Trial. You are eternal. How yum.
One: What's a sexy way to drink your laxative milk aka the bone marrow of a jackal? Easy! Blast Beyonce's "Drunk In Love." Sing I been drankin repeatedly as you pour the vile froth down your throat. Dance. Laugh when the juice solidifies and becomes a horcux that you are to later expel. You cannot be killed!
Two: Make a fun game out of the frightening turbine noises that are emitting from your stomach. Pretend it is a velociraptor and you are in Jurassic Park. Pretend you are Sigourney Weaver in "Alien" and you must battle the reptilian creature that was scientifically engineered by the Illuminati. In the second scenario, you find out the lizard is just Eminem. Ask him how he got his lyrics in "Lose Yourself" to say "Free Masons and YouTube Conspiracies" when you play it backwards. Sunday afternoons have never been more charming.
Three: Wear lingerie to your colonoscopy. Maybe you'll have a meet-cute with a doctor named Sebastian or Dante. Maybe he'll be so infatuated with your cute bralet that he'll give you too much anesthesia and you will die and then be able to star in the upcoming movie "Heaven Is For Real." Maybe he can replace your intestines with 40 yards of candy necklaces and you can be sexy from the inside out. If none of the above happen, at least you will look cute when you wake up to the sound of your own farts.
Note: The underthings at the top are what I wore while I was skewered. I did not find a hot doctor, but I was told I had a "beautiful colon." So that's something.
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