Hark! Behold the constantly resurfacing mantra that my jaundiced gaze upon the bald apes infesting the planet Earth brings to my mind!
PEEPL R STOOPID.
My newest evidence to this fact is an article I read today about the newest New Age craze to sweep America: Hydrocolonics. Certainly these have been around for awhile (mostly in L.A.), but now they're right up there with St. John's Wart, crystals, and aromatherapy. In fact, this article said that colonics were being used treat arthritis, asthma, and whatever malady those knuckleheads can think up.
Come on, people! There are DOZENS of other equally unproven and superstitious New Age remedies that aren't nearly as disgusting! The article went into great and sickening detail about the exact nature of the procedure. Even thinking about the description of the warm or cool water injected with a tube through the rectum where it loosens fecal matter, which is then drained through a second tube makes me want to puke. And then they repeat the procedure a couple more times.
That makes drinking urine seem like a walk in the park.
What in the name of the little bits of fecal matter swimming around in used colonic water makes people think this will cure every tiny health problem they've ever had? In theory, the "increased flow" through the asshole rebalances the body in a way a normal colon, the product of billions of years of evolution, can't do on its own. This posterior equivalent of a dusche (which is equally moronic) is supposed to cure EVERYTHING, just like every other New Age therapy. Nevermind the fact that respectable scientists note that such artificial meddling could possibly disrupt the digestive tract. Maybe those nutters are just living out their anal sex fantasies.
Also, the chick at work who was hot for me dropped a bit of a bomb to day. She revealed in a very casual, non-secretive way that she was pregnant. And here I didn't think she was that kind of chick. I feel suspiciously like I was walking down the sidewalk, and a grand piano crashed to the ground six feet behind me, and I turned and said, "Gee, that was close." I'm glad my psycho radar is working and I wasn't dumb enough to get sucked into her clutches. The irony is that my evil mother has been pressuring me to get a chick all this time, and said I should date her, while criticizing my past decisions. Take THAT, you devil-dog-cow!
Searching for a chick is a lot like walking through a minefield blindfolded, except not as much fun.
