Post-Memorial Day Trauma

I've been crapping out remnants of the Memorial Day festivities all morning now.
Three dumps at home. One here at work.
None of 'em are too messy, but they're still a bit nastier than my weekday poo.

The Moby Dick of Dumps

Arrrrgggghhhh, matey. Ye best stay clear of yonder crapper for a fortnight or two, 'cause I let loose a beast that would shiver even Moby Dick's timbers in there. When I set this ship ahoy into the high seas of Ye Olde Commode, she made a splash that licked at me buttocks. I still haven't the foggiest idea what I ate that would give rise to such a horrific dumpening.
Maybe it had something to do with Dollar Hot Dog Night at the ballpark...

The Scariest Moment

Sunday afternoon, I experienced one of the scariest moments of my life (this is not the first time something like this has happened...or the eightieth).
I was chillin' at the casa, when I decided that it'd been awhile since I'd had a good fart. So naturally, I let 'er rip, only to feel a warm sensation...a little too warm of a sensation.
I immediately dashed to the bathroom to check my britches (there's no room for mistakes with white boxers). To my surprise, all was well, but never again will I force a fart.
Especially after a week of eating all-you-can-eat Mexican food.

A Big Mistake

At this moment, I have issues. Serious issues.
About thirty minutes ago, I happened upon an eatery ("eatery" sounds so sophisticated) that allows customers to build their own burritos.
Being a sane man, I realized that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. So I began to construct the most massive burrito known to man: three tortillas (~ 10 in. diameter), about a pound of ground beef, half a pound of cheese, and some hot sauce (I'm a simple man with simple tastes).
This thing was so massive, that it warped space.
Naturally I didn't finish this beast, but I gave it the ol' college try, and now - thirty minutes later - I'm suffering the consequences.
I expect the resulting dump to be legendary.
I'll keep you posted.

Without Further A-Doo...

This morning, I was awakened by the pressure. The pressure of an extremely large chunk of dook trying to make its way out of my bowels. I headed to the bathroom, and quickly blasted out the chubby li'l guy.
Game over, right?
Wrong.
Thirty minutes later, I realized that that "chubby li'l guy" was a cork, and it had been preventing gallons upon gallons of liquid filth from flowing from my butthole.
Needless to say, everyone at work has been using the bathroom upstairs to avoid the stench...

Oops! I Did It Again

It's only 11:00 a.m. right now, but I'm currently on pace to shatter Saturday's seven-dump record.
The odd thing is: I didn't eat all that much yesterday. But so far, I've taken four respectable craps this morning. Unlike Saturday's debacle, however, all of these dumps are of consistent consistency (?).
I'm gonna be sure to chow down on a big lunch (brunch, maybe) in order to help my chances of besting my personal best (that doesn't sound quite as bad as "consistent consistency").
I'll keep ye posted.

OH. MY. GOD.

Saturday, I took no less than 7 dumps, and I'm not talking about a bunch of mini-dumps, I'm talking about "is-the-toilet-gonna-flush-with-that-gargantuan-turd-in-there?" dumps.
Seven - count 'em, seven - times I ventured into the bathroom (at various places...some public, some private) to give tithe to The Porcelain Goddess.
Every imaginable texture, every imaginable size, every imaginable color...
I don't know exactly what brought it on; was it the tacos for lunch, the two steaks for dinner, or the late-night snack of chicken-fried steak, french fries, and fried okra?
Who knows. It was probably a combination of "all of the above".
Dy-no-mite.

Nothin' Much Happenin'

A few poo-pebbles, but that's about it.
The last two days haven't produced very interesting bowel movements, but I'm hoping for a come-back weekend...

I Think There Were Some Organs In There...

I crapped my innards out this morning; a four-round poopfest that ended when I was just too exhausted to continue.
There's more to come, but I need to recover before venturing back to the Porcelain Goddess.
Seriously - it was traumatic...