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Before my shower in the morning, I had the urge to give birth to Baby Brown. This I did with little difficulty; in fact, my bowels were slightly soft. The consistency was -- how can I put this delicately -- like a thick lentil soup.  I now knew that Olestra was not going to kill me, so I devoured the chips hungrily all morning, finishing off the bag. I was not nearly as gaseous that afternoon, which I took to mean that my body was growing Olestra-resistant. Again that night, I dropped a soft bun. It too was looser than normal, yet nothing to become worried about. "Olé Olestra!" I shouted in my bathroom, my voice echoing off pink tile. "You have given me the victory over fat!" |