Hubby doesn't get my fascination with poop. I was constipated for a long time and now that I'm finally going on a regular basis I get way too excited. I've had explosive diarreah the past few days which have NOT been fun...damn my reaction to caffeine! :( But I love a good shit where it just all comes out at once and you're done! I laughed so hard this morning at these posts LOL. poop is awesome.

When I went to pee today, I found the toilet occupied by a cloudy little floater. I flushed away the cloud, but the little turd remained in the bowl. Undeterred, I put in my pee and gave it a flush, confident that that would send it on its journey. But no! A few hours later it was still there! Poor little turd. But this time, I gave him a big, strong poop to be his guide into the scatological afterlife. And lo, the two went boldly together into the beyond. I was so proud to be able offer assistance.

I am still not sure if there is something to make of these strange poops that involve an initial hard "cork" followed by a long flow of diarrhea. Are they named? May I adventure into fecal taxonomic science and throw caution to the wind and just declare them Encorkated Diarrhea?

I perceive distress. / She ate bowling alley food. / Green soup in the bowl.

Last night Katrina and I shared a pint of Crown Royal, and this morning we woke up and took identical-smelling shits. Like, wow.

It's wierd how we feel about our own shit versus the shit of others. I went into the bathroom this morning to find that Greg hadn't completely flushed away some turds. I hit the flush lever and bolted the fuck out of there. Now I'm at work and I just took a shit here. I spent a good amount of time staring at the shit in the bowl up close before flushing, so I could write about it here. But then I started thinking about how we feel about shit. If it's ours we're fine hanging out with it and getting to know it for a little while. But if it's someone else's, mainly Greg's, we want it out of the way as soon as possible. Shit is shit, people! What gives?

One friend (Jeremiah) was talking to another (Neil), complaining about my farts, and Neil asked if I had been giggling and said "my god, greg has ceased to be amused by his own farting? he really is in a rut." It made me really feel like someone cared.

Just a few days ago I deposited a turd so gargantuan it made my asshole blush. This creature was like none other. It was so large its gravitational field actually pulled the dingleberrys off my ass hairs. I stared at it in the toilet for a good half an hour before I flushed it. Now I understand how a prostitute feels when she's about to toss her illegitimate half Mexican baby in a dumpster. It was my baby... my big brown baby... and I was about to toss it away like so much feted uterine trash. I was its mother; its father was a cup of Super Kashi with 10g of fiber... as well as a salad and wheat veggie wrap and perhaps Sunday's and Saturday's meals as well.

i was farting for about 14 hours straight and finally someone ran up to me and sprayed some spray cologne on me. it started smelling exactly like a bathroom. that's when i told the guy that his bullshit spray cologne is actually bathroom freshner in a different bottle.

is it wrong to enjoy the farts more than the food that created them? if that's wrong, greg dont wanna be right.