How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Last night I went up to bed in the wee hours of the morning, and clicked the TV on. I'm accustomed to falling asleep to the most monotone program available. Anyway, the tele flickered and the very first thing I head was "My eight year old daughter had a bowel movement as long as my arm and almost as thick..."

GACK!?#@

I dove for the remote, but before I could change the channel the guy continued, "Not everybody knows this, but John Wayne, the 'Duke', had 44 pounds of undigested fecal matter in his colon when he died".

It was like an atomic poop bomb going off in my bedroom - "DUCK! ... and cov-ver!"

I finally found the pillow that was hiding my remote and pressed all 28 keys at once, changing channels before he could dump another arm-length image-turd on my sleepy time. I'm not sure what he was selling but presumably it had something to do very large amounts of ingested dietary fiber.