I Crapped Out A Chocolate Bunny

Even though Easter's still a few weeks away, nobody is going to accuse ol' Timmy of sleeping on the job.
This morning I sat down for Round 1 of the morning dump sessions, and produced a chunk of turd that easily could pass for one of those chocolate Easter bunnies that they sell around Easter time.
I seriously considered taking a photograph, but I didn't have a camera handy, and I wasn't sure how the guy that develops the film down at Eckerd's would react when he realized that someone was taking pictures of their bowel movements.
I guess my work of genius will have to remain undiscovered...

Ready For Round 3

Before going to bed last night, my stomach was a-rumblin', and when I woke up it was still making some really weird noises. So when I went to the crapper to unleash the remains of a chicken-fried steak dinner, I was expecting something bad, but not this bad.
A thick layer of oily crap-residue floated on top of the water, hinting at the filth that was hidden below.
A couple of hours later, the bell rang and round 2 began.
Same story, but this time in a stall at work.
Round 3 can't be far...

I Need A Liquid-Plumr Enema

Nothing.
That's what's been going on in the crapper for the last couple of days.
A little pebble here, a small splash there, but nothing to speak of. I've never been one to employ laxatives (unless you count Taco Casa's burritos), but lately I've been thinking about entering the dark world of poo-inducers.
It seems so 'Hollywood', though...
I'll probably just stick to burritos.

Prarie Doggin'

I don't even remember what film this post title is from, but it perfectly describes how I've felt every morning this week when I woke up.
I can actually feel the little guys tryin' to push their way out.
It's so much easier to get out of bed in the morning when you need to take the Browns to the Super Bowl.

Like Sand Through an Hourglass...

Have you ever popped out a dump that was sand-like in consistency?
I used to do it all the time, but I hadn't in a while until this morning. When I got up to admire my work, all I saw was a pile of silt-like crap at the bottom of the bowl.
I studied it for a while before gagging.
The stench was powerful enough to peel off some of the wallpaper in the crapper.

The Master Blaster Returns!!!

Whew! Was that an adventure or what!?!
One squat. One and a half seconds. One awesome dump.
A Master Blaster is always reason for celebration. They come with the fury of a volcanic eruption and leave a path destruction in their wake.
Unfortunately, due to the fact that this particular Blaster came while at I was at home, I was unable to share it with my coworkers. It's a shame, 'cause they could really use a morale-booster...

Pasta Poo

I ate a lot of pasta yesterday afternoon. A lot of pasta.
The weird thing about pasta is this: although it makes you feel really full, the dump that results the next morning isn't nearly as impressive as you might think.
I've only taken one dump this morning, and it was 1/4-pounder in my crapper at home that left me feeling disappointed.
Mexican food's really your best bet, if you want to impress the people at work by forgetting to flush.

El Scorcho (Part Deux-Deux)

Yesterday afternoon I decided to dine at a fine establishment near my work that serves Mexican food. I noticed that you can order your food either "reg'lar" or "habanero style". Being the owner of testicles that I am, I marched up to the counter and ordered two "habanero style" tacos.
Big mistake.
First of all, the first bite made me cry. And crying in public is no small faux pas.
Secondly, my butt was scorched by my the end-results (get it!?!) of my misadventures this morning.
I swear I could smell burning (butt) hair as I sat there sobbing (again) on The Throne. It wasn't much of a dump (in size), but it isn't a crap I'll forget anytime soon.
Like a moth to the flame...

The Dook of Pearl

Dook, Dook, Dook
Dook of Pearl, Pearl, Pearl
I recently took a venture into the world of cheap domestics, and I've been paying for it ever since. Nothing but nasty, nasty sludge.
Dehydration can only be partly responsible for this truly grotesque dump. I have a feeling The Powers That Be have made sure that the destitute masses' bowels are subjected to the brutal brew that is Pearl in order to keep us down.
Fight the Man (after fighting the Squirts).