LogFAQs > #975925993

One day, I got out of bed one afternoon and had to sit in judgment on the porcelain throne as I contemplated the day's decrees. I noticed something was off as I dropped a resume in the bowl, so I looked in. Lo and behold, I looked upon the Red Sea. My heart stopped for a moment, then I cleaned myself up and went to the doctor. For $1000, not only did she take some of my blood to run some bloodwork on me, but she also took me to second base by shoving a pair of her fingers right up main street. An awkward silence fell as I let out a loud moan. Her fingers came out clean and she told me I merely passed a tough stool that nicked a blood vessel on the way out. She gave me prescriptions for this and that, and gave me her number to call if it got worse.

2 years later, I'm now buying hemorrhoid cream and wondering why she not only never told me it was possible I had hemorrhoids, but why, when I call her number, I now get Pizza Hut instead.

Seriously though, fuck hemorrhoids. Taking that first shit of the day has always been so satisfying, and now it sucks.