Advocates from both sides of the “Yo mama so fat/My mama just fine” debate are in up in arms this week with the announcement of Dr. Irving Kilpatrick’s controversial new TummyPort surgery, the latest medical advance to tout weight loss without the lifestyle-altering albatrosses of proper diet or self control. The revolutionary surgery, honed by Dr. Kilpatrick through years of secret testing on desperate fatties and abdominal injury victims, involves the installation of a small circular port in the patient’s abdomen, giving convenient external access to the weight watcher’s stomach for purposes of food extraction prior to digestion. Marketed as “bulimia without the barfy aftertaste,” the TummyPort technique already has a waiting list several hundred people deep at each of Dr. Kilpatrick’s seven clinics in the Houston metro area.
Decried by some medical professionals as “quackers,” others defend Kilpatrick’s procedure as a natural outgrowth of the popular stomach-stapling surgery, which was performed on a record number of Americans last year despite serious risks to the patient’s health, including hair loss, malnutrition, and instant death after blowing a staple at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Though the TummyPort does carry an increased risk of infection in the weeks immediately following the installation, it is unlikely to be life-threatening and can provide hours of Laundromat-like entertainment for family members mesmerized by the sloshing stomach contents visible behind the tempered glass of the TummyPort’s front hatch.
Speaking with the commune while performing a TummyPort installation on commune lab rat Raoul Dunkin, Dr. Kilpatrick downplayed the controversy following the announcement of his technique’s successful clinical trials.
“Any time science makes a bold leap forward, over the steaming bundle of dogshit that is popular convention, there’s bound to be either a hoopla or a to do, dependant upon the fashions of the day,” Kilpatrick mused, holding one of Dunkin’s unidentified internal organs ponderously in his left hand.
Asked what he thought of charges that the TummyPort was just the latest expensive medical gimmick to prey on consumers more willing to risk their health than to make positive lifestyle changes, Dr. Kilpatrick farted into a jar, sealed the lid and then handed it to this reporter without comment.
While many medical professionals have decried the surgery because of its increased risk of infection or the possibility that the TummyPort’s hatch could be accidentally left open at night, allowing a mouse or something to crawl in there, some doctors have objected to the technique solely on the grounds that it’s really fucking gross. Dr. Holman Dykstra of the Mayo clinic holds just such a view.
“Have you ever been over to someone’s house for dinner, and you’ve just finished enjoying a fine meal, only to have your host excuse themselves to go piss out their pork chops through a rubber attachment hose in the bathroom? It’s unsettling to say the least,” Dykstra intoned, the color suddenly draining from his face.
During a recent promotional tour to raise awareness of his procedure, Kilpatrick battled back at his detractors from the perspective of world hunger, raising the possibility that half-digested foodstuffs removed via the TummyPort could be captured in small jars and marketed as baby food.
“At the very least you could probably use it in your garden or something,” Kilpatrick suggested. “Some kind of fertilizer. I don’t know, I’m not a plant guy, but it seems like it would be good for something.”
As of this writing, commune reporter and resident douchebag Raoul Dunkin is enjoying the versatility provided by his TummyPort, but reports that fellow staffers flipping his hatch open right after lunch has become a minor problem, since he then has to go change his pants and eat lunch again.