The Way Mother Used to Cleanse My Colon
Is no Longer Acceptable

When I was a little fellow, in 1936, you did not hear all of the whoop-law about cleansing your colon. We as a people back then never paid much attention to our colon since we really didn't know where it was. 

We did, however, worry about constipation. I worried about it until I was a nervous wreck. You would have to have been there to participate in the worry and pain that constipation caused.   

The first worry was having to drink "Black Draught" tea. Black Draught tea was the most God-Awful tasting concoction known to man. One cup was never enough. I had to drink that stuff every hour until, as my Mother would say I "loosened up". 

I knew I wasn't going to loosen up, because unbeknownst to my Mother, I had not had a bowel movement since Labor Day, and that was two months ago. 

Now my Mother would not have bought or used a cleanse program like we have today. No sir, her Mother had made over one thousand gallons of Black Draught tea in her lifetime and my Mother was well on her way to equaling that record.

When the Black Draught tea failed we didn’t give up. I had other tortures to endure. 

When my Mother saw that I could not perform using the vile tasting tea, we moved into Stage Two, or as I later called it, the Anti-Rust Stage. There was never a chance of my innards rusting because I was drowned in Castor Oil. 

After all bearings were running free, all rust parts rejuvenated, my skin shined like a new nickel.  

After I had strained until almost blacking out in futile attempts to end the torture. I lied and said I had done the deed and all was right again. That story didn’t fly so I threw myself upon the mercy of the court and cried and begged to try again; it was not to be. We had reached the end and I was going to be the victim of total humiliation.

Standing with her weight on one leg and her hip sticking out, my Mother would twirl a red rubber hose with a black dingus on the end. The hose was attached to a red, rubber Hot Water Bottle and like a "Flapper" from the 1920s, twirling her beads, she stalked me with one thing on her mind.

The last thing I saw looking back from being bent over the edge of the bathtub, was her clutching her "apparatus of humiliation" and the black dingus aimed at my most delicate aperture. I prepared myself for the "enema of doom".

After the screaming and yelling had subsided, I did, I must admit, find myself in a state of euphoria. Don't know for sure whether it was the raging river of hot water that had coursed it's way through my innards and relieved my body of unwelcome debris, or the mere fact it was over for another couple of months. 

So, I feel like a recommendation is in order. I recommend that you find a natural cleanse product of various herbal contents that will give you easy relief. A cleanse is the best weight loss program there is. That gunk that accumulates over the years weighs more than you think and it is not coming out by using the methods endorsed by my Mother. 

Had she only lived long enough, she could have made those prisoners at Guantanamo sing like Magpies. They would have begged to divulge secrets when she arrived at their cell, arms crossed, with the Hot Water Bottle, the red rubber hose and the black dingus swinging. They would have begged for “water boarding”, especially when she came back for the second application.