My Colon

This is not about punctuation.

I have a perfect colon.

This is a direct quote from Dr. Cohen, who shouted this to me as I was being wheeled out of the surgical room, just as my consciousness emerged from general anesthesia.

“You have a perfect colon!” he bellowed for all who cared to hear. “I’ll see you in five years!”

Then he added, “tell him I said that, he won’t remember.”

But I do remember. I also remember telling the nurse that as soon as I was able I was going to go down to City Hall.

“You’re going to City Hall?” she asked, as we turned a corner and parked in the recovery room.

“Yes, I’m going to City Hall to change my name to Perfect Colon Hoffman.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she responded. Then told the next nurse to tell me that the doctor said everything looked great and that he’ll see him in five years, because “he won’t remember this.”

But I do remember! You don’t forget comedy like this!

Anyway, I have a perfect colon. My commas are a mess, but my colon is fine. (I may have made a comment or two like this as well.)

Have you ever had a colonoscopy? Everything they say about the day before is true. When you think there’s absolutely no way you can excrete anything more, and it is safe to leave the rest room, whooosh, you better get back on the bowl, because here comes some more. Honestly, I’m surprised that frat houses don’t dose their new pledges with Clenpiq as a hazing ritual. Maybe they do.

Anyway, as subscribers to HOFFSTACK, I figured you might want to know just what kind of guy you are reading. Now you know: a man with a perfect colon.