State of the Mike

I survived my yearly medical physical. The worst news came at the end of the prostate exam, as Doc removed the rubber glove and offered his diagnosis to me on my elbows.

"You're down a quart."

Then, looking at my records, he added, "Only two years to your next colonoscopy. Collect the whole series."

I remember the last colonoscopy. I stirred from my physician-induced haze to see this on the monitor:

Or so I thought, but that wasn't the case, and it failed to explain the guest appearance of Charlie Sheen.