Fighting OxyContin Induced Constipation Makes Vietnam Look Like a Trip to the Fair
By: Rush Limbaugh

Personally, I’m getting a little tired of people getting on my case for not going to Vietnam, calling me a hypocrite for being an advocate for the war in Iraq from the so-called comfort of my broadcast studio after answering my own call of duty with a “cheap excuse” (behold the ignorance of anyone who hasn’t had a pilodinal cyst on their hindquarters) back in the sixties, because if they knew what fighting OxyContin induced constipation is like, they’d shut the hell up.

The guys who got drafted and went to Vietnam got to come home after a year. Me, I’ve been fighting this war against not being able to go number two for seven. Seriously, I haven’t shit right since getting hooked on opiates in 1998. You ever imagine what carrying around four pounds of putrefying fecal matter in your bowels on a daily basis feels like? It’s not fun, I’ll tell you that. Probably something like swallowing a bowling ball. In fact, yeah, I’d go so far as to say it’s less pleasant than being in some cockamamie war.

Ooh, big deal, our soldiers in Vietnam had to sit around a base in a tropical country drinking beer, playing volleyball, and occasionally taking a walk through some woods where there was an outside chance they might get killed. Big deal. I have to sit on a toilet bowl two hours a day literally pushing my ass out of my body just to evacuate one tenth of the excrement packed up inside my lower intestine in little tootsie roll size chunks and you don’t hear me complaining. In fact, guess where I’m writing this. Hello! Man, where are those matches…

Which brings me to the smell. I heard some Vietnam veteran say that sometimes he could still smell the rotting corpses of his friends rotting in the sun during the siege of Khe Sanh. You think that’s bad? My doodie might not come out, but boy the gas sure does! Leaks out of my anus all day like fumes from a hot sulfur spring. Try standing in a crowded elevator with the odor of last week’s meatloaf sandwiches exuding from your ass. It’d probably make getting spit on by a hippie at the airport seem like a warm handshake, friend. Think about it.

To think Ted Nugent got out of serving in Vietnam by being labeled insane by showing up in front of the draft board disheveled and soiled by his own urine and feces. The lucky bastard. I couldn’t shit my pants if I tried.

Oh wait, something’s happening. I think the moment of truth is here folks, when the stubborn old gates finally yield and birth a precious nugget or two… oh no, that’s blood. Looks like I just popped another hemorrhoid here. Boy, that’s a real gusher… oh well, it’ll stop soon. It has to; I mean can you imagine a more humiliating way to go than that?

Maybe I should… God, can’t think… head’s getting light. Getting sleepy. Maybe I’ll just take a little nap. Nighty night.