Tuesday, October 28, 2008

I've got irritable bowel syndrome

Every poo is funny. I get poo-paste, poo-mucus, poo-pellets. Poo Poo Poo.

In fact I just got back from the hospital, where a lovely receptionist lady told me she liked my t-shirt (Maroon Furtive). I have just spent 40 minutes telling my doctor about my poo. In the most horrendous detail. I've had all kinds of fingers up my bum.

I once had to have a camera up my bum. They call it a flexible sigmoidoscopy. A foot and a half of cable laid in my bum. Then I had to travel for 9 hours on a coach. I could still feel it there for days afterwards.

And yet in all of this, I have never shat meself or squirted poo across the room or slipped in poo and banged my head really hard. I feel a little bit cheated by that really.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

SOOooo many stories of poo

Starting with most recent...
In halls at Uni we had a Phantom Shitter who terrorised our fair building for about a week. Each day he'd poo somewhere new. It started with the showers and went on to the flower pots outside, the canteen floor and finally, his crowning achievment, pooing on the "brown spot" of the snooker table. He was never caught.

As a young scamp in primary school, my friends and i were slightly intrigued by poo. One day my friend decided to bring a crap into school wrapped in toilet paper. It was very funny. Then the next day my other friend, who was more odd than most, said he had done the same. He then produced a poo from his pocket that wasnt wrapped in anything. We ran away.

Another time at rugby (we were forced) i decided to take a shit on the changing room bench - it was a sort of ploppy dropping type. Some older boys then came into the room and proceeded to laugh about how "some cat has cacked on the fucking bench".

Thats all for now. Oh except that the odd boy who brought the unwrapped poo used to put a rubber pig up his arse and throw it at the girls in our class. Ugh. I wonder where he is today?

Monday, October 13, 2008


The horror, the horror.

I went to a grammar school, and we had a lad placed in our year by the local council, in the hope that we would have a positive impact upon his behaviour (last I heard, he'd just been sent down for credit card fraud to fund his heroin habit, so that obviously worked).

Three of us were out one Sunday afternoon, when we 12, hanging around on this old railway bridge over a quiet backroad, when we found a frog. So this lad invented a game: let's drop the frog over the bridge (about 20 foot to the road below), and then take turns having a crap over the edge of the bridge to see who can get closest to the frog.

Well, there were no Playstation 2s back then, we had to make our own entertainment...

PS: I was a non-starter, Bad Lad hit the frog square on the head, which makes me think he'd been practising.