Diary of a Colostomy Bag



Submitted for your approval a diary. Only it’s not just any diary, it is the diary of a colostomy bag. May 10, 2009

Held a formal dinner with my peers. It wasn’t hard finding others who were full of shit in this town. Harry was the first to arrive.

“Hello young fella”, he said. “My you’ve grown. Pretty soon you’ll be all grown up into human form like the rest of us; completely full of shit and proud of it.”

“Senator, you weren’t invited. I specifically asked you not to come. You can’t be trusted with anything.”

Harry Reid was annoying. He’s the spineless type of shit bag that would run from a girl, and has. I can’t believe he heads the Senate, but then again, someone figures he’d be more useful as a covert Republican tool than as a genuine Dem leader.

Then came Sean Hannity, Glen Beck, and Rush Limbaugh. Their capacity was such that it was incorrect to say they were all full of shit, like us regular types. No, they had an infinite reserve and could never be full. If every sewer from every country in the world could be channeled in one pipeline, any one of these guests could suck it dry. We were in awe.

“What’s cooking?” Rush asked, salivating, sipping from a spoon he dipped in the porta-potty. “that shit smells good!”

He didn’t leave anything for anyone. Even the flies were disappointed.

May 11, 2009

I’m a colostomy bag. I’m designed to store the fecal matter of diseased or wounded intestines. I’m not exactly full of sunshine. That said, I wish people would stop calling me Senator.