lamentation of the prune

Eh... prune!

Prune will help me with my constipation woes!

Prune will make me learn to fly!

Prune will make me as beautiful as She-Ra, sister of He-Man - alter ego of the pink-shirt-and-lilac-tights-wearing prince of Castle Gayskull! (No, I did not accidentally miss the 'r'.)

My mom, she was a constipated woman. Prune never worked for her. Neither did laxatives. Nor rotten milk. When I was born, I suppose I must have been quite the constipated babe. I remember being stuck in the loo for long periods of time ever since I was five.

It's a bad experience, constipation.

It's not too bad when you've got books to read in the loo though.

But I just read all my books and comics so going to the loo has become quite a dreadful task.

But I need to, you know. Poo. Because if I don't poo enough, I'm going to get colon cancer. That's what my mom says anyway.

But we don't have prune at home. So how? So how?