The Last Jackass On Earth

I looked at the package. "Bowel Prep." There was something about the name that didn't sit right with me. Couldn't they have come up with a more snappy name, like:

COLON SPA--GIVE YOUR MUD A MUD BATH!

BOWEL OWL--LET THE BOWEL OWL BURROW YOUR BOWELS!

TAKE THE SKINHEADS BOWELING: ANYONE REMEMBER CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN?

BOWEL SELTZER, NOW IN CHOCOLATE

Mom didn't like it. "Maybe get it next year," she said, fretfully. "I don't like this, Greg. Do you really have to get this done?"

"Yes, Mom. Didn't you hear all the fun names?"

As I waited for my ass to explode, I told her about my trip to Montrose. I had done something new, renting a car from a private fellow as part of the gig economy that I had heard so much about ten years ago. There was only one problem: my brain.

I got in the car and pressed the START button. Seemed simple enough. But nothing happened. No starting was happening. The radio came on, the vents exhaled warm air. Okay. But no engine. I pressed the START button again. Pressed it quickly twice. Nothing. Why wasn't there a DUMB button. I could handle that! (Mayhaps.)

After long trial and excessive error, I realized you had to press on the brake while you pressed START. Oh! The engine roared to life. Then, once I parked at my hotel, took a nap, I went out again and stood before the car with my fob. It beeped and squawked. But the handle was still locked. I stood at it, pressing all the fob buttons, pressing twice quickly, and still nothing.

Then I realized I was standing at the wrong car. Ha ha.

Mom wasn't listening. "I don't see chiropractors," she said. "When I was nine, one of them put their finger in my butt. And I've never been back."

"They don't do that anymore, Mom. I think that's gone the way of Camper van Beethoven."

Someone went by with a dog. Mom sighed loudly. She was just about to pine for a doggie of her own when I was saved by having to relieve myself. I ran to the bathroom. My shit geysered out, spraying the bowl with a jet of diarrhea that was one hard spray of hot, black shit spraying in a stream, shitly.

"AAARRRRRHHHHH!" I said quietly.

As I sat on the toilet, I thought about the latest bad movie I had seen. And, wiggling around on the toilet seat, I realized this was probably the finest segue I have ever made.

Today's Movie Minute is about gastro-intestinal distress in movie form, with the clinical name THE LAST VAMPIRE ON EARTH.

With a vampire this boring, of COURSE he's the last.

Aurelius Corinthian Transylvanio III goes to college in the hopes of meeting chicks who won't be weirded out by his dopey doughy dorky looks, and being two-thousand.

"Cut! The director's in the shot! Roll again."

He gets with a totally legal chick and they make beautiful, consensual, legal love.

"Any lower and you're going to jail, creep."

It's hard not to wonder if the movie was going for a certain vibe?

"Pay no attention to the losers above us."

It turns out our heroine got AIDS in Africa, being touched by a black, and it's up to our hero to cure her of her bad acting.

"I'm, like, totally old, and stuff. (Psst. Hey, can you buy me a Boone's Farm?)"

I forgot to mention that they met in Literature Class, where the professor announces that he wants everyone by the end of the semester to ACT OUT Dracula. He casts Aurelius (spoiler alert) as Dracula, and the girl as the girl. The literature students are understandably confused by the sudden call of the proscenium lights. Now they have to memorize lines and get into costume? But it turns out this is what they do at this college. In Biology, you have to turn in a watercolor of a dissected frog as your final project. In Art Appreciation class, you have to speak Chinese with a French accent, and in Statistics I students must enter and win the Open Men's 100M Butterfly Swim Race dressed as vampires.

In the end, the townspeople gather to burn Aurelius at the stake since he was lousy at painting watercolors and making matchstick replicas of Westminster Abbey.

 

"Let's sacrifice him to our gods! And feast on his doughy flesh! Now

who took Ancient Greek Poetry and knows how to light a pyre?"

Aurelius is lucky the old lady saved his vampire bacon, putting a stop to it all and demanding they put a stake through her boyfriend's heart instead. She has AIDS.

"Because of my AIDS I don't know how to hold a gun. So back off!"

All I can say is I'm glad I'm done with the whole ordeal. And my colonoscopy, too.