What happens when you drink 10 oz of Magnesium Citrate?

What happens when you drink 10 oz of Magnesium Citrate?

I’m glad you asked…

12:05 pm: It’s time. You shotgun a 10 oz bottle like it’s a lukewarm PBR and you don’t want to be a pansy in front of your older brother’s friends.

It’s suppose to be lemon flavored but it’s becoming quite clear that whoever led the R&D team that day has never actually tasted anything lemon in their life. You are already regretting this decision.

12:06 pm: You down a cupcake like you’ve been saving it for the apocalypse because let’s face it…that time is here. It’s going to turn to liquid form before it even clears your throat but you don’t care. All is right in the world at this moment. Hold on to that. You’re about to enter a very dark period in your life.

12:37 pm: First sign of life. The pressure is growing. You already have 5 lbs of impacted poop in your colon and you basically just drank the “safe for humans” version of Drano. You feel a poop coming on finally. You think it’s time. You’re wrong. You get a little snake turd as a teaser.

Take note…this is the last semi-solid thing you will see leaving your body for the next 24 hours.

12:57 pm: That little science experiment you got cooking is about to reach it’s boiling point. Your stomach is angry now. It hates you…you can feel it. You have exactly .3 seconds to make it to the nearest toilet but you can’t run… NEVER run! You pray to God there is enough elasticity in your butthole to keep the gates closed 5 more steps as you start to preemptively undo your pants to save valuable time. Almost there. 3…2…1…

12:58 pm: Sweet Mary,…is this real life? Your cheeks barely hit the seat and all hell breaks loose. The poop/ water mixture you’ve just created comes out with such force that it actually sprays the back of the toilet bowl at a 45 degree angle thus deflecting it in every direction but down.

Is that blood?

False alarm.

That’s just the remnants of a cherry pie you ate at Thanksgiving…when you were 5. The smell is horrid…the sound is frightening. You try to clench whats left of your butthole to soften the blow but it’s not working. The whole house just heard your liquid poop fart as it gurgled out of your butt.

1:06 pm- 8:30 pm: Everything’s a blur. You have pooped out everything you have ever eaten since the day you were born, everything your ancestors have ever eaten since the early 1800’s, and your butthole now feels like you have a flaming hot Cheeto and the tears of a thousand Jalapeno seeds stuck in it.

You’re now curled up in the bathtub ugly crying because you have to remain within arm’s reach of the toilet at all times.

You have the poop sweats.

8:37 pm: Your family will never be able to unsee the things they’ve seen in the last 8 hours.

You’re broken.

Your butthole’s broken.

Your spirit’s broken.

Life as you know it will never be the same. But…tomorrow’s a new day. You’re going to wake up, throw on the only remaining pair of underwear you have that doesn’t have a poop stain on it, and you’re going to run up to Target with the last shred of dignity you have left…and buy yourself a new toilet brush.

You’ve earned it.

ASHLAND WEATHER