Have you ever been doing whatever, and all the sudden you feel awful? Your hands go to your stomach, and you start wondering what’s going on down there? Should I be worrying about leaking? Should I be securing my hair away from my mouth? Have you ever gone through an extended period of time where there was nothing taking place but pure unadulterated pain? If so, then you my friend have experienced the rare occurrence of digestive indecisiveness a.k.a. bowel limbo a.k.a. “Crausea.”

Let me lay it out for you in a layman’s scenario…You’re sitting at your computer checkin’ out Facebook…

Hmm, party at Saddle Ridge I’ll have to go to that…Why wasn’t I invited? I don’t care. I’m going anyway…Tara Larzelere thinks Annalisa Bond is the best roommate ever…Note to self: Mock Tara out on her Wall…What else…Oh, look, there’s a group “I survived Waterloo High School”…I’ll have to join that…Mmm, no I won’t…

Whuh-oh, what’s goin’ on with your stomach? Feels like their may be trouble on the way. You brush it off; it’s probably nothing. It’s not nothing though. The pain intensifies, and you’re suddenly in a position to go down on yourself…

Oh man, this is not good…Ahhh…This is not good…What is this? What did I eat? It was China Chef…China Chef did this to me…I have a Chinese colony growing inside me…Ooo, why won’t this end…I need to lay down…No, I need to take a dump…Ughhh…No, I need to throw up…Mmm, maybe I’ll just go sit on the toilet…ErrrUhhh…Damnit…Why won’t anything come out?! God! I just want this to end! O.K., I’ll make myself throw up…Guh…Uluck…Gluh…Oh God…Oh my God…I can’t do this…I can’t…Drugs…I need drugs…

Through the whole thing your ass and face are dancing over the toilet seat in a way that makes it look like it was choreographed by ABBA.

This is what I’m calling “Crausea,” or the simultaneous feeling of having to crap and puke at the same time. The worst part about all this is it’s usually resolved without the evacuation of any materials. In another arena, an unsatisfying result such as this might be known as “blue balls,” and in this case, the level of satisfaction is no different.

If I’m going to be doing so much suffering, I want to see the fruits of my labor. Give me something tangible. Give me something to let me know the movie’s over…Show me the credits…Let me know who’s to blame, ya know?

Crausea, guys…It’s out there.