Muskrat Land

     Normally we spend the evening getting our stomach’s pumped after Eric’s parents buy us dinner.  My treat. All You Can Eat Buffet’s are the Devils Cesspool, after all.  AND:
Dr. Yahtzee will perform a complete purging for a 6 pack of beer and a package of squeaky cheese. He’s good; it takes him 5 minutes to get everything up, using carefully selected 1970’s tunes and a few feet of garden hose. Anytime you start wondering why someone needs so much education to be a doctor, you need just to witness a professional in action.  The little esoteric pieces of knowledge astound me.  The Captain and Tennille songs, for instance, seem to have been written with emptying the contents of one’s stomach in mind. Who knew? I rarely think of them any more. But I’m no medical professional, that’s for sure… 
     I can’t abide a hose down my throat, so with me Yahtzee uses a large glass of sodium bicarbonate and a handful of pictures of him and Kym having sex. This works about half the time, but it’s not me I’m worried about.  As usual, I’m thinking of others.
     Happily, stick a rubber hose in either end of Eric and he can be counted on to start barfing the moment Muskrat Suzie, Muskrat Sam Do the Jitterbug Out in Muskrat Land.
If I let Yahtzee dress him up like a cheap whore, and take pictures of the procedure, he’ll throw in a colostomy, of sorts. Though the pictures are mostly exterior shots of Eric looking frightened and uncomfortable and contorted, there are enough close-ups of Andre in a nurse’s outfit licking his lips next to a smiling and nodding Yahtzee to know that there’s nothing to be concerned about, long term health-wise. And, frankly, there are just some things you can’t put a price on. 
Yahtzee charges $19.95 for an unlimited month’s pass to his online Ass Cam.
I don’t think he accepts Medicare, which is, of course, a huge disappointment.