There are certain problems that a solution is far worse than the problem itself. This is well beyond that. I can only share this story, because I survived. With little dignity intact, but survived nonetheless. Now don't worry. This isn't going to be a scary, edge of your seat thriller including near-death experiences. Just a series of events that changed the way I look at doctors, Popsicle sticks and corn. But before I get to all the details, I should point out that this is a truthful tale that cannot fit in a single blog entry. So sit back and be prepared to learn about the Bluddeanous Period of the Deuce Era.
To be honest, I didn't really realize that I wasn't normal during the Mesopantsazoic Period. Now you might ask a reasonable question: "How many times do you have to nearly crap your pants before you know something's wrong?" Sadly, I can't answer that question. That urgent run to the deucer occurred more times than I could remember. I am more Watson that Sherlock Holmes. I was just too naive to piece it all together. This is a period long before The Deuce Diaries. A time when I was still embarrassed of the fact that I took dumps, let alone watery squirts in random places in front of random people. I could tell no one. And in turn, no one told me that most people go to the bathroom in clean toilets with toilet paper. Then, the dawn of the Bluddeanous Period changed my world forever. Like finding out the lead singer of Wham! was gay, the discovery was so obvious I felt like a Corky for not realizing it. And of course, it all started with a single dump.
To be continued...
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