I'm sorry about this. I'm sure there are better things for me to talk about than poop, but it is, for some reason, a topic that I'm quite comfortable talking about--no matter how much whatever audience I have might wish otherwise. I blame the Foleys (my Mom's side of the family). They are famous, or infamous, I suppose, for talking about poop at the dinner table. They aren't fetishists or scatologists (that I know of, I guess), it's just something of a family tradition. Some families talk about their gardens or their school days, it wasn't uncommon for my family to talk about their BMs--or SOMEBODY'S BMs, it often didn't matter whose.
So, with that in mind, let's discuss Long John Silver's.
Yesterday, I went into Wichita for guys' night--my every-other-Wednesday-night gathering with whomever of my friends happen to be available that night. Cammi was with us. Cammi is a vegetarian--well, mostly, he eats seafood. Usually, when Cammi isn't with us, we eat hamburgers or chicken fried steaks somewhere for dinner. Because Cammi was with us, we had to come up with somewhere else to eat. Because we were gathered on the south side of town (decidedly not a haven for vegetarians and other weirdos), there weren't many options. The only one that came to mind was LJ's.
We're no stranger to the effects of LJ's. We used to frequent it BECAUSE it made us feel like absolute balls the next day--it was a type of challenge, a rite of passage, perhaps. We tried to eat as much terrible, terrible fish or fish flavored chicken as we could. But that was as far as the challenge ever went, really. There was no winner--obviously, since we all ate LJ's. But we did it anyway, for several years.
But that was quite some time ago. Now, we only eat there when we've forgotten what it does to the human digestive system.
As I sat on the can today, for the fourth time in three hours, I began to lament the loss of poor John Wayne. If only he'd made Long John's a regular part of his diet, maybe he wouldn't have died the way he did.
"How did he die?" you ask. "I thought it was stomach cancer, possibly caused by nuclear fallout he was exposed to during a movie shoot near a test range."
"Aha!" I reply. "You are a fool! Do you not watch informercials on Sunday morning television? Have you never seriously considered purchasing the Sword of Darkness? Aren't you tired of chopping garlic, nasty, stinky garlic? You haven't heard that John Wayne died with 40 pounds of duke in his colon?" (Seriously, this web site is AWESOME. I'm sad they didn't have the Sword of Darkness one, but I suspect it might have been a local-ish commercial of some guy selling 105 pocketknives and assorted blades for one small fee. Whatever it was, I couldn't find the video anywhere on the internet, and you are really missing out for it.)
Really, watch the infomercial. The dude is CREEPY, and he LOVES to talk about poop. It even makes me a little embarrassed. I find the concept of colon cleansing ridiculous and a little repulsive, but I found myself strangely compelled to call the phone number. He's just so convicted! I haven't called, obviously, because I like my colon non-exploding with fluids, but I was tempted.
Anyway, I think I proved beyond a reasonable doubt that I could not possibly have ten to fifty pounds of John Wayne in my colon today thanks to Long John Silver's. There simply would not have been the room. If only John Wayne (and Elvis, apparently) had had the guidance from bad fish connoisseurs like myself. He might have lived another thousand years or something.
Oh, and here's a picture of Button making a funny face when I told her that termination was going to begin on her parents in early October and she would be stuck with me forever.
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