So the DUmmie has "a pain in its ass."
You get what you give, DUmmie! Enjoy! 
The primitives think along the same lines as the growing-extinct old hippies did; "I can do what I want to do, and if there's any bad consequences, drugs'll take care of it."
I've never seen such a large group of people indulging in such sorry-ass diets, as the primitives; they think they can clog their throats with sweets, sugar, white bread, chemical foods, grease, and glop, and then sit around on their asses all day long, and get away with it.
A story.
franksolich once had haemorrhoids; back when he was 17 years old, and just started college.
It was considered inevitable; all those in my own family had had them.
I went to the student health center at the University of Nebraska, and was given bullet-like objects to stuff up there.
It got worse, and the same thing happened to franksolich that happened to one of the primitives at this campfire; infected fissures.
I went to the student health center, and was prescribed Darvon.
And then later, Percocet.
This went on that whole first summer (I entered college in summer); weeks and weeks of agony and irritation, especially since I wouldn't take the drugs; they were free and all that, but I flushed them down the commode.
I went home to the Sandhills at the end of the summer, and went to see the family physician, an old country doctor.
He told me, "Pull down your pants and bend over," which I did.
He jammed a glass rod dipped in silver nitrate or nitric acid or something, in there.
Problem solved, apparently for life, because it's been a few decades, and despite that I've had a few desk-sitting jobs after college, I've had no problems in this area, not even the slightest twinge.
This was about the time I had made considerable changes in the diet; as a child, my younger brother and I had usually been fed glop by older brothers and sisters resentful that they had to feed us (our parents were usually gone), and food prepared by resentful teenagers is pretty gross.
Upon being on my own, I totally shunned all that had been shoved down my throat in earlier years; margarine, white bread, processed foods, grease, sugar. I think I was 14, the last time I choked down a hot dog, and the merest whiff of spiced ham (bologna?) gives me nausea; I won't go near it. It was probably about the same time I quit dumping sugar on breakfast cereal, dining on it instead plain, with milk.
Canned vegetables, canned fruits, no way.
&c., &c., &c.
And the counsel and advice of the old country doctor; plenty of fiber and roughage, the more the better.
This had far-reaching affects that not only prevented problems with the lower end of the alimentary canal; at this late stage in my life, I'm
still free of the "genetically"-caused family afflictions and ailments--diabetes, hypertension, high cholesterol, overweightness, eroded teeth, &c., &c., &c.
Food is supposed to be merely a fuel, not a decadent indulgence.
