"But Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me!" I hear you cry. "Upchucking is as natural as the dewdrop on the lily or the birds twittering in May. Similarly, it is also as natural as doo-doo. Do you despise nature?" No, I do not despise nature, but I believe one should doo-doo in the privacy of one's own loo-loo, and not doo-doo it on my tube!
Example! I am convinced ER would've been sent to the cancellation graveyard if it weren't for the incessant squirting of bodily fluids it showcases every week. Think about it! Is it interesting to hear those self-involved doctors bellyaching about their personal problems episode after boring episode? "Oh, no! I have a malignant brain tumor!" squeals the whining and bald Dr. Green. "Oh, crap! I'm a drug addict!" moans the petulant but kind-of-cute Dr. Carter. "Oh, poo! I'm a gimp!" whines the lesbian cripple Dr. Weaver. See? It never ends!!
But just when you're about to blow a gasket listening to Abby drone on and on about her alcoholism and subsequent yeast infections--WHAMMO! Dr. Romano gets his arm whacked off by a helicopter blade, and squirt! Squirt! Squirt! Here come the bodily fluids (and more often than not, VOMIT) and you're glued to the set like a pair of sticky underpants.
Example number two: Survivor Thailand. In the first episode, the tribes have barely set foot on shore when a distant rumble is heard deep within the bowels of one of the gals, and before you know it--KA-BOOM! It's like fawking Mt. Vesuvius! She's hurling up the contents of everything she's ever eaten in her life, including her stomach, which dangles out of her pie-hole like a soggy dry-cleaning bag! Did I really need the "reality" of seeing the ground assaulted by a semi-digested chicken pot pie? My answer: HELL, NO.
Example number three! In a recent installment of MTV's Road Rules, the gang will be rewarded if they ingest--my more sensitive readers may want to turn away at this point--a "bull penis smoothie." While I'm certain none of these kids are strangers to "gargling penis," a good 10 minutes of the program was solely devoted to them chugging... and then puking. Chugging... and then puking. Chugging... puking. I haven't seen so much vomit since someone e-mailed me a picture of Attorney General John Ashcroft in a Speedo!
Therefore, if networks have the constitutional right to show people barfing on my television, then I have the constitutional right to protest! Please readers, write your national leaders and beg them to stop the regurgitation. (Don't mention anything to John Ashcroft, though. The thought of him still kinda makes me queasy.)
