Good day to you all!!
It has been a long time since I have posted up here hasn’t it?? To all 6 of you who read this I am afraid that this post may not leave you satisfied if you are looking forward to my usual razor sharp wit, extreme good looks and my very very big size vocabulary as today’s topic is one of the more disgusting in life. Today we talk about feces.
How does that make you fecal?
Update: These events are now about a month old. I was unsure about posting this but eventually came to the decision that people need to know intimate details about…well just keep reading.
My story begins yesterday. At least I think it does. I have decided to try a new way of losing the weight just to vary life up. It is called intermittent fasting. If you wish to know more then google that baby. Basically it starts with a trial 24 hour fast just so you can judge how your body feels and reacts to not eating for a long period of time, then if you are ok you can start to do that once a week. To be honest I felt and feel fine. So I think I will give it a go. ANYWAY!!!
So my fast ended at lunchtime today. I was not too hungry but I was very glad to see school lunch being rolled in, I watched as it was lovingly laid out and waited as long as my own sense of decency would allow before grabbing the tray with the biggest portions. I did not wolf my food down, in fact I would say I was a perfect lady in how I ate.
After lunch it was on with the day. I had been charged with creating a worksheet and a question sheet, more work than I had been given at this school in about 6 months. So in I jumped to the land of work.
There I was, making that work sheet like there was no other thing in this world (apart from facebook). I was choosing fonts and word art like a man who had just discovered his typewriter is obsolete and these computinators are magic.
When all was done I took that worksheet and triumphantly handed it to the teacher who had asked for it. A cheeky grin on my face, proud of the work I had done. She asked could I include an extra section I looked her in the eye, took the sheet and began to brainstorm. There was simply no room on this sheet for another section. How could I rectumfy this? Then it came to me. There was no room on the front but I tell you there was room on the BACK!!!! I ran to my desk in a hurry, and I made that section, printed it on its own sheet and, after about 17 attempts to use the fancy printer’s double sided page feature, finally presented that teacher with the new and improved, multi-dimensional, worksheet!
There, now for all of you who maybe wanted to read a nice short blog post from me I advise you to go to the big “X” button on your internet browser, click it, and just forget about this particular post. In all seriousness it gets pretty disgusting from here onwards and I really don’t want to sully anyone’s opinion of me. I really mean this.
More than meets the eye
It begins. After handing the worksheet up to the teacher I again found myself with nothing to do. I decided to have a wee read of the internet as there is usually something good on. Right then I got a case of what my friends have called the “coffee poops”. I don’t drink coffee but their description of the coffee poops is a sudden and unavoidable urge to poo.
“Oh dear” I thought “I had better see to this”. Up I got and walked to the toilet. When I entered there were 3 old men I have never seen before at the urinals and more were coming in. This was strange to me for many reasons.
1: Why were old men using the school as a rest stop?
2: Why were they ALL pissing now?
I had no choice but to enter the secret lair (the cubicle). I feel no shame in telling you all that I have been having very regular, well behaved, bowel movements recently and I thought this would be another pleasant day for me. I was wrong.
First of all, I don’t want anyone to hear me pooing as much as the next girl, so when two or three old men are loudly piss-chatting in full earshot of your bum, it becomes a little unsettling. And secondly, at my first…push I felt something was not as it should be. It felt a little “looser” than usual. I clenched. I have had these kinds of poos before, what we affectionately call “The Scutters” in Ireland. They are unpleasant for all involved and I would not share that experience with three loose lipped older gentlemen who had seen the fat foreigner go into the den of sin.
The old men left and I thought it was safe to continue with my adventure. I released, and the sound that came out startled even me. It was similar to the noise Donald Duck makes when he is angry, only much lower in pitch and a little more breathy. And it was loud. So loud that I am sure I heard it echo in the hallway. The sound definitely filled the entire bathroom area as far as the door. I clenched again in a hope to gain some control on situation. I then used the classic technique we all use (I know you do it!!!) when trying to avoid noisy bowel movements. I placed all my weight on one cheek, pushed the free cheek as far away from his trapped brother as I could and in turn trapped him on the other side of the toilet seat thus creating a friction free exit for anything that might be passing. The famous comedian Billy Connolly once said that a fart was “Just your arse applauding” so I have applied that technique for many years to great effect. Not this time.
My arse just kept Donald Ducking. To make things worse TWO of my co workers entered the bathroom. One to make his water and the other…the other one went into the cubicle in front of mine. I zipped up (my bottom) quick smart but I knew it was too late. Not only had they heard me but, other senses were also in play. I must admit this was among my best work. It was a feast for the nostrils if I do say so myself. And I know a toilet is probably the only place, second to a music festival, where shitting with reckless abandon is permitted, but nobody likes to have noisy smelly poos when others are there to reap the rewards.
I had to fight off embarrassment and hysterical laughter. I was having the noisiest, smelliest soggy poo of my life and it was in work!!! Old men piss-chatting and my co workers were all there to live it with me.
I had to tell someone!! I had been catching up with my friend from Ireland (who now lives down undaaa) and decided to tell her about the whole experience. From this came the strangest text I have ever sent. So I leave you with this:
I hope you have enjoyed the most graphic blog post I have ever written. If, after reading this, you still count yourself among my friends and have have not had your opinion of me tainted by brown rage then maybe there is hope for us yet.