There are certain moments throughout the course of human history which have been able to bring the world to a halt, and everybody remembers exactly where they were when that moment happened. For example, I remember being in Mrs. Barber's 9th grade biology class when first finding out that the Crocodile Hunter died.
You'll never forget exactly where you were and what you were doing when you found out that Hilary Duff has a case of diarrhea coming out of her butt.
PageSix -- Hilary Duff’s daughter Banks embarrassed the “Lizzie McGuire” alum by telling coaches at her soccer camp about her mom’s diarrhea.
The actress shared a text message via Stories from her assistant Lauren, who revealed that the 3-year-old “ousted [sic] her to the soccer coaches.”
The text read, “Banks told a story at camp…’my mom made bad chicken and now she has diarrhea…that’s what happens when you make bad chicken.'”
These types of moments have the ability to impact the psyche of society as a whole. It's as if there are two separate time periods--life before finding out that Hilary Duff has diarrhea, and life after learning about Hilary Duff's diarrhea. And what makes this news such a devastating blow is that it contradicts everything we once thought we knew to be true. That girls don't poop.
Death, taxes, traffic, and girls not pooping. Those were the only things in life we thought we could rely on. A few constants in this ever evolving sea of chaos we call life. And now one of those fundamental pillars is just gone. I mean if Lizzie McGuire poops then clearly every woman on the planet has to poop as well, because she's as pristine as it gets. Unfortunately her chicken is not.
Sidenote: Let this be a lesson to all you kids back home. Do yourself a favor and purchase an instant read meat thermometer. Not only does it ensure that you'll cook chicken to the appropriate 165° internal temp to avoid getting diarrhea sick, but you can also have more control on the doneness of your steaks and burgers and everything else. Clearly Hilary Duff didn't have an instant read thermometer on hand and now the rest of the world is paying for her actions.
Honestly these are just the days I hate being in the business of reporting the news. I wish I didn't have to pass on such devastating information, but it's my duty (get it?). I guess the only appropriate way to describe this mess is that it's a sad day, it's a bad day.