No, I Do Not Have A Problem With My Bowels

I received an email today from a young lad by the name of Billy, out of Rock Springs, Wyoming. Billy wrote:

Dear Mr. Carver:

I’m a big fan of your blog and keep a picture of you above my bed, right next to pictures of Ronald Reagan, Glenn Beck, John Birch, Rush Limbaugh, Jack T. Chick, Sean Hannity, George W. Bush, and S. Truett Cathy. My mom and dad like you very much too, but they are worried about your soul and wish you would get religion. So do I!

But that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing because two of your recent articles, “I’m Cutting All Of My Workers’ Salaries And Impregnating Their Wives” and “‘Dredd’ Is 2012’s Greatest Non-Porn Film,” ended with you pooping unexpectedly. What’s up with that? I’m just a kid, but I never poop without meaning to. Are you sick? Is something wrong with your butt? Do you think it might be butt cancer?

My grandma died of butt cancer and no one found her for two weeks. By that time her cats had eaten most of her. I like you even more than I liked my grandma and wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you. Please see a doctor and get fixed soon!

Your friend in Jesus,

Billy (Age 11)

Well Billy, thanks for the kind words and concern. To answer your question: No, I do not have a problem with my bowels. The fact is, I’m a very wealthy man, and therefore not beholden to the societal expectations to which you and other poor people need to adhere.

As a result, I eat, drink, and defile as I see fit, and when nature calls, I let ‘er rip regardless of where I am or what (or who) I’m doing. Sure it can get messy at times, but that’s what servants are for.

Anyhow, I hope that satisfies your curiosity. And one bit of advice for you: Give up on that religion nonsense. For every S. Truett Cathy who manages to get filthy rich despite clinging to spiritual hocus-pocus, there are millions of nameless Jesus freaks who spend their lives wearing sackcloth and cleaning up my unexpected bowel movements. Be a man, Billy, not a maid — next time your mom and dad tell you to go to church, you tell them to go to hell.

Also, if you have or can acquire any naked pictures of your mother, please send them to me; I’ll certainly make it worth your while. Unless your mother is ugly and/or fat, in which case no thanks and you have my condolences.

I suppose that’ll do it. Thanks for writing.


Categories: Health, Idiots, Servants

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