My pal Will and I were exchanging text messages this morning while he awaited the start of his first-ever colonoscopy. I assumed he was nervous and since I'd been through the procedure myself I figured why not make him feel a bunch better about being moments away from having a complete stranger drug him to sleep and then cram a camera very deep into his bunghole by sharing with him the gory details of my own experience.
See, you've gotta be completely, um, empty in order for a colonoscopy to work correctly so the night before your doctor makes you choke down like a gallon of an artificially-fruit-flavored white liquid called Magnesium Citrate. Because I was twenty-seven years old and an idiot when I was scheduled to undergo my first colonoscopy, I woefully underestimated the speed at which the aforementioned white liquid would take effect so while watching television with the three people that I was sharing an apartment in the Castro with at the time, I gambled on what I thought was gonna be one of those run-of-the-mill toots and absolutely obliterated my gym shorts (twice).
Thankfully, Will was into it.