Inside Mcdonald’s McCafe
Philadelphia, PA

Possums, I went and got myself a disease!

I got myself VC!

Not, to be confused with VD!

Darn Tootin’!

Actually, it is more like a disorder, but with a lot of patience and ease (stress the ease part), it should eventually go away. VC is short for Vacation Constipation (it has a nice ring to it, like it should be in a song, non?). According to the bowels that be, Vacation Constipation, is when you can’t go to the bathroom, while you are on vacation. The body spends time trying to adjust to its new eating, sleeping and emotional environment.

Your suppose to eat a daily diet of fruits and fiber, but I have been eating a pound of bacon for breakfast every morning.

Your suppose to drink at least 6-8 glasses of water, but I have been drinking Coca Cola every chance I get.

Your suppose to get at least eight hours of sleep every night, but I have been up sharing old stories with my Aunt.

It all started right after my Aunt S. made us fried chicken. I already told you about her fried chicken! She told me that she got a new bathroom, so I headed there to check it out. I remembered the old bathroom, before the fire, and this one was waay better. Unfortunately, their old mirror didn’t burn down with the house, cause this mirror in bathroom, is just like the ones in the car-images not only appear closer than they really are, but more like larger than they are, cause Possums….

Again, Possums….my ass looks…nuff said!!

Although, they probably have christened their toilet many a times over, I decided to try it out myself. And Possums, I don’t know if it is hereditary, but my Aunt has perfect reading material too in there, just like in my bathroom!! Love it!

So, I am on the toilet and by the time I got to the first page of the second chapter I realized that something was amiss; something was not budging. I counted on my fingers, backwards, to when was the last time I went to use the bathroom. I am not going to say the number, but Possums, we are still in the single digits. Thank Christ!

I started to grunt. I don’t know why, but I always felt that grunting helps the situation along. I started to say things like, “Yeah, come on”, “That’s it”, “Oh, God help me”, “Oh, Oh, Oh”, “I’m almost there”. Every time I felt that I was almost there, nothing would happen! Isn’t that what women have been going through all their lives?

And then I realized, “wait! am I making the same sounds I make when I make love?”

No, wait.

I forgot to say, “Common you, F—-n’  Ni- -g–!!”

Whew!

SIDE NOTE: Possums, I don’t know why some men want to hear that phrase, but when they do, they choose to tear “it” up!!!! No, lie! I think it has something to do with past-live memories of slavery and working the cotton fields. I never thought the reaction would be universal, until is slipped out once, with a white man, and he acted the same way. So, a dick, is a dick, is a dick….

But, I digress.

There was only one person, besides God, that I could call upon during my time of need-Ava.

“Would you hurry up! Everyone is waiting downstairs to go to the Chinese Buffet.”

“I can’t do-do!” I said.

“Why do you have to go now? Why not after we come back?” she asked.

“Cause, I want to eat a lot and I won’t enjoy myself if I can’t even sit properly in the chair!” I responded. “Why, not go get me some milk of magnesia?”

“Where am I suppose to get that?” asked Ava.

“Why don’t you trot over to the store and see if they have any enemas, too?” I begged.

“Enemas! Everyone has their coats on! They all thought that you were still taking a shower, cause they heard it running!” she said.

SIDE NOTE: Possums, I have this thing…anyways, I have to leave the shower running to divert attention of any sounds that may protrude…

“Why don’t you take a shower and let the hot water beat down on your bottom?” asked Ava.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me!!!” I whispered strongly.

“Maybe, your constipation is caused by mental fear?” asked Ava.

I looked at her.

She looked back at me.

She continued slowly, “I think that maybe one should see a therapist about it, when you get home…”

I looked at her.

She looked back at me.

Possums, I wished at that moment that I had really long arms and no constipation, so that I could let one rip, while I was on the toilet and LOCK HER IN as I did so!!!

So, Possums, all in all, nothing, but a pellet came out and I had to go to the Chinese Buffet with a full colon. But, I did manage to look fierce! What does one pick out of their suitcase to go with constipation? Black, of course, cause unlike the colour, we know that constipation is never in season!

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