"The second oldest bar in our fair city opened its doors in 1857 -- but women weren't allowed in until the 1970s. Today, this East Village institution still has sawdust on the floor, 140 years of history on the walls, and only two kinds of beer -- McSorley's Light and McSorley's Dark. The line on 7th Street stretches halfway down the block on weekends; go on a Wednesday or Thursday to down a few mugs in peace and soak up history in the bar Joseph Kennedy called home."

In this fast-paced world, everyone has days or even weeks where it seems like the only meal they get is a cold Pop Tart or a cup of fro-yo from the company caf. When that happens, even the best of us get a little "irregular." What is one to do in this high-pressure corporate culture? Take a chalky "MOM" remedy? Load up on some high-fiber garbage? Come on, who has the time or can tolerate the taste?

There are times in everyone's life where they are begging for a cure, but the tonic is sometimes worse than the disease. Everyone would love a "magic pill" to take their troubles away. Well, for those of you who haven't "taken the kids to the beach" in a few days, there is an answer to your prayers. Why take a pill when your cure could come in the form of yeasty, frothy goodness?

One of New York's oldest pubs has invented the laxative to make a gallon of apple cider look like pure Wisconsin cheese when it comes to your small intestine. "McSorley's Olde Ale House" in New York's East Village has been brewing a beer for years that not only gets you "BLOTTO," but also gets you "PLOPPO."

Last Thursday night, in the company of a few contemporaries, I enjoyed a fine evening at this charming little saloon on East 7th Street. After just a few glasses of their famous dark beer I could feel my bowel rivaling Nadia Comaneci for a gold metal in the "O-Rings," if you get my meaning. By half past 9, I was ready to release my filth unto some unsuspecting bowl.

Luckily I got drunk enough to reach an almost tantric state where I made the defecation flow internally, rather than release it all at once. To add to the stimulation, I walked around the corner to "Pommes Frites" to load up on fresh-cut Belgian Fries with a little Garlic Herbed Mayo. Let me tell you -- there is nothing that adds to a crapulent experience quite like fried food.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt a rumble that could no longer be suppressed, even with a steel plated colon. When I finally allowed myself to release my bowel tar after a night of beer and fries I knew it was one of those experiences that people move to the city for.

The next time you get a little congested, McSorley's will cure what "Ales" you. And who can argue with a cure that gets you drunk? It is like having your cake and eating it to.

-- Little Tommy Two Flush

Author's note: Any readers who would like to suggest a great restaurant that also gives you a great after dinner "mint," please submit it for review.