Clean as a whistle

I had this dream recently where my doctor woke me from my colonoscopy exam and directed me to look at a high definition monitor up on the wall of the operating room. I was still a little groggy so it took a moment for me to realize that this was a live shot and that the camera was still inside of me. The doctor pointed to the screen and said, "just look at that." When my eyes came into focus I saw clearly what had him so disturbed. There, clinging to the walls of my colon, were hundreds of small colorful emoticons: smiley faces, sad faces, crying faces, winks, devil grins, puckered lips, the whole kit and kaboodle. "Wow," I said, "I had no idea. So this is where they end up." The doctor just shook his head. "It's going to take me all day to clean up in here," he grumbled. I watched as he got back to work, plucking a Facebook "thumbs up" emoticon from a dimly lit crevice of this heretofore uncharted territory. This place where the sun doesn't shine.