Woody Cavenaugh

WARNING: What follows follows in the hoofprints of the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse known as "Too Much Information". If you are easily offended, have a weak since of humor, or dislike of Kevin Smith or Jackass do not read further. Read something fun instead.

Ok, now that THEY'RE gone I have to tell you the story of Robot Poop: or how I was transformed into a 1952 Plymoth with an oil leak.

It all started with a sample of Xenical a box of chicken and a dare. I probably should be alarmed that way too many of my stories start this way. At any rate, the other night we had gone to the grocery store, I was starving and I selected an eight piece box of fried chicken as my dinner. I wasn't depressed or anything, just very very hungry. At 7pm we got home and as I was settling down on the couch to eat an entire chicken Sara says, to me. "We have this sample of Xenical." For those who do not know, Xenical is a drug that binds with the fat in food in your digestive track and keeps it from being digested. Thus, you can eat a meal and digest a lower fat version of that same meal. So Sara, who had been giving me the disapproving look for over a half hour after I made my decision to have yard bird for dinner, starts giving me an devious look instead. She says, "If you choose to eat that whole box of chicken I dare you to take this Xenical."

Done and done! Anything that will allow me to eat my dinner without the withering glare is worth doing in my book. So I did it. So until we went to bed every half hour or so she would say to me, "Do you feel anything yet?" I didn't. Not anything at all.

The alarm clock goes off, she hits snooze and says, "Anything happening?" Nope.

All through the day she would call me or instant message me, "Anything yet?" Nope. We had lunch, we had dinner, I had gone to the bathroom the normal ammount with the normal outcome. Nothing unusual.

I go to fencing and start moving gymnastic equipment around so we can have class. The clock hits 7pm. It didn't make a noise, to let me know it was 7pm, I just happened to see the time as I was sprinting, well lubricated, to the bathroom.

My emergency pants were at the office so I had to blot both sides of my drawers on which was a six inch diameter wide even circular layer of cooking oil.

Things were happening. My dad tells a story about how in the early 1960's he was driving a 1952 Plymoth that needed constant attention. The trunk was kept full of spare parts, fluids, and tools necessary to made any repair where ever he happened to be stranded. It got so bad that in the winter (and this was coastal NC winter weather which is very mild) he had to replace the regular 30 weight with sewing machine oil for the car to even turn over.

I found myself thinking, "Now I know how that Plymoth felt". I blotted my backside. No need trying to wipe oil, it will only spread. Eventually I felt degreased enough that I could stand up, hitch up my pants and survey the damage I left behind. Damage was worse than expected. For starters, the initial blast and the following sprint really spread the oil around. I knew this because of the ammount of area of the toilet seat covered with oil. I blotted my behind a second time in a wider pattern and cleaned the seat.

You're probably wondering what was in the bowl besides cheap paper. For this you will have to imagine, I would like for you to close you eyes for a moment and imagine the Star Wars Character C3P0. Now imagine this robot going to the bathroom. Know that oil and water do not mix. For the sake of politeness I will not describe it further except to say that there was more than enough oil present to bake a cake, or a nice loaf of homemade bread. Not that I would recommend you use this particular oil, its just an estimate of how much was present.

Flush.

There was still oil standing in the fresh water. I think back to the local commercials about not dumping oil and chemicals into the sewer system. I wonder if this counts?

And that was that. There have been no more outburst since. For those interested I would recommend Xenical. I had that extreme kind of result from eating an eight piece box, a sensible person eating a normal healthy meal would get all of the bennifit with out the Jiffy Lube.

Other uses for Xenical might be for guys who know they are getting a prostate exam in the next 24 hours. Its good to be healthy, its even better to be comfortable.

And that is the end of my public service. You're welcome.