Hippies give ME IBS

Dear Murray

So I’ve been invited to a “friend of a friend’s” house for Dinner. And although I’m very grateful (I’ve met these people 2-3 times), I’m a little apprehensive. They’re kind, eloquent, educated, and planning on having a houseful of 12-16 sort-of-strangers at their house for Dinner. Everyone’s brining a dish, and a good time will be had by all. The problem? I have a KILLER case of IBS and they only have one bathroom—a split bath at that, with the toilet portion being right next to the dining room (where everyone will be hanging out all night.

Now, it’s not bad enough that I have to eat a specialized diet, carry around Kleenex brand “tidy-wipes” for those messy shits I have to take in public restrooms. Now I have to hold in my diarrhea either until I get back home (which will be completely impossible), or risk shitting up a major storm three feet from the dinner table with only a thin wooden door separating my bowels from the bowels of the turkey. The real clincher is since it’s a split bath, I can’t even run water while my shit sprays out like a fire hose. And if anyone reading this has IBS, they know that my shit will *not* smell pretty. Imagine a dead skunk underneath your house in Phoenix after 3 weeks of decomposition.

Any advice? I can’t refuse to eat their food, and I can’t run downstairs and take a big shit on the corner of Haight and Ashbury in the middle of a festive dinner (I think that may be illegal anyway, although this is the Haight). Plus, the longer I wait the more my bowels will rumble. After about half an hour it starts to sound like the Loma Prieta earthquake in there.What do I do?

Bowel-Johnny from Austin, TX

Wow. You people have some serious problems. It’s a sick world, and Murray’s a happy guy. Well, you definitely don’t wanna carry any of that Pine spray with ya, cause it doesn’t cover anything, then instead of smelling like shit, it just smells like a bear fucking shit in the woods. But listen, you’re talking about the Haight, and I know the kinda smells going on around there. Your shit can’t come nowhere near the funk of Patchouli. It smells like hippie sex. So they ain’t even gonna notice. Fuck, they’ll probably roll their eyes up say “woah. heaaaavy. someone’s burning incense.”

So, you just have to cover your ass for the sound. No pun intended. Ahh, fuck it. I intended it. SO FUCK YOU! HAHAH. That’s easy, too. Every fucking hippie worth his goddamn baggy white jumpsuit carries one of these with him. So buy one of those, and take it in the bathroom. Whenever ol’ faithless is about to blow, just start banging on those motherfuckers and shouting shit in Hindi. They’ll ask you to play their next party.

Now leave me the fuck alone.