Oscillating so rapidly from shame to pride that I am a blur.

So dude is terribly constipated. Impacted. (Don’t worry. This is not a poop joke. That’s as graphic as we get, right there. Keep reading.) He figures this is bad enough to require some form of intervention. But a friend recommends trying an herbal cure and she brews him some special tea. (This joke assumes friends routinely discuss the condition of their bowels.) He’s skeptical, but drinks it. And the stuff works. He feels great. “What was that?” he asks. “I made it myself,” she explains, “from this fern right here.” “Wow,” he says, “With fronds like these, who needs enemas?”