I’ve had back problems for the past ten
                  years. Just last week, 
my doctor sent me for an MRI of my lower spine. I had never had
 one done and wasn’t
                  quite sure what to expect. Let me tell you,
 if I did know what to expect, I probably wouldn’t have gone! I 
mean, seriously, this hospital was not equipped with the new open
 style machine and shoving my big ass in that capsule
                  was like 
giving a hamster a suppository. I should have known better when 
sitting in the waiting room in my little
                  gown reading Newsweek, 
when the patient before me was in the magnet screaming, 
coughing and finally vomiting after
                  they let her out. It sounded 
like I was in line to enter Aushwitz and the Nazi’s were hung over
 and pissed
                  off from a lack of sleep. Every time I heard this poor 
old lady scream, my eyes would shoot towards the door and my
                  
left eyebrow would raise up all on it’s own in an uncontrollable 
involuntary, “What the hell?”
                  reaction. Finally, she was done and 
when she left the MRI room, she looked like she had just been 
through a routine
                  of water boarding and didn’t give them the 
information they wanted to hear. The two female technicians 
seemed
                  nice enough as they laid me down on the firm bed type
 board that slides in the tube. They pushed my shoulders against
 the headrest and asked what radio station I wanted to listen to.
 I said WZZO of course and figured, “Well,
                  this can’t be too bad.”
 As that thought crossed my mind, they slowly entered me into 
the tube. This
                  hell crate was only two inches from my nose and 
if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that I was inside
 Lucifer's’ Sphincter. The farther I went back, the more it became
 relevant that life would cease to exist
                  for old Curtis. Just as I 
was about to touch Satan’s colon, it stopped. There was air 
blowing all over me
                  as if they were trying to comfort a dog 
just before uthanization. Everything was florescent and green
 and it felt
                  like I had been abducted by aliens, almost like the
 Matrix or Fire in the Sky. I could hear the music clearly as I 
decided to close my eyes. I imagined I was at the beach. The
 air felt like the warm summer breeze as I listened to
                  my boom
 box and watched the waves roll in from the ocean. Then, I heard
 the technician say through the headphones,
                  “Your first picture 
will take three minutes.” and out of no where an 18 wheeler 
tractor trailer drove
                  onto my beach and ran my ass over! The
 noise that came from this machine was not of this world. Hell,
 it wasn’t
                  even of this dimension. If I was in the Devil's Ass, he
 had left the nastiest fart that has ever graced the walls
                  of Hell.
 I don’t even know why they let me listen to the radio because 
all I could hear was my inner child
                  being tortured with lit 
cigarettes and battery acid! I opened my eyes only to see that
 puke green colored lower
                  intestine two inches from my nose. 
I felt like the most hated turd in the history of the universe. 
After roughly
                  45 minutes of this hellascious torture, it was finally
 over. The Nazi’s pulled me from Beelzebub's anus like
                  a slimy 
broken condom. They smiled and asked if I was all right. I laid 
there and thought about the poor old lady
                  who had went before
 me and all I could think was, “If that bitch would’ve just gave 
up and died, I’d
                  never have been in this mess!” -Word-