I have not drank like that in a very long time. I had a kickin buzz for a solid 8 hours. Never got close to being sick either, especially after drinking so much vodka as I did.

We stayed the night at B-Doo and Amys so I was able to drink with impunity. And now… The Aftermath.

Already dropped two juicy waves as it is and here comes number three. My stomach is roaring periodically. This is likely to get worse before it gets better. It feels like I’m dropping olives out of my ass, but they are sopping wet. The smell can only be described as vulgar. Mental note. If I’m going to drink like that again, don’t drink an entire jug of cranberry juice as your mixer…

I think the catalyst for this poop was the bison burger I had for dinner two nights ago. Every time we have those, my colon slowly but surely gets stiff as a board and outputs some real pavement crackers. And it tastes good too!

The burgers. Not poop.

Clam fries make their return under a brown haze of stench. My anus hurts now. At least the wipe was on the low side, but I’m sure my already chaffed underlegs will contribute to dry asshole by tomorrow morning. Groan.

Taco Bell really is hit or miss with my colon. Well, more like hit or mess. The rumblin’ from down underin’ was pretty fierce so I dropped one, even this late at night. Had to. Between the farts and the slight chance I’ll shit the bed (literally), I was not going to spend the whole night in my bed otherwise. It was loose. Basically, the poop from earlier today plus… Taco Bell. What can I say? Poop + Taco Bell = Softer Poop, therefore Taco Bell = Softer. By that theory, Taco Bell makes a great laxative. I’m sure a lot of people would agree on that theorum.

Have I ever mentioned how I wish I was rich and able to make my career into pooping? Port, Pooper Technologist. Now that’s a title I can be proud of.

Speaking of pooping, this doodie was not that great. Loose pile of turds staked. The only point of note was the overwhelming stench of everyone’s favorite, poopcorn. The farts last night hinted in that direction and the dump confirmed. Hopefully now I won’t blast my poor wife away when she gets home from work.

You know, work. Which I’m not at. Fuck me, I need like 11 weeks vacation.

EDIT: Wow. So I closed the bathroom door and didn’t spray. Figured that’d be sufficient. Until I walked past the door and found the smell seeping out. Yikes. Time to spray, apparently.

So as expected, it just dropped out. Exactly like the Cosby kids in grade school at 2:59, waiting for the bell to ring to start summer vacation. The bell rings and out they stampede, right to their favorite swimming pool.

A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES

The silent shitter returns! I even delayed my flush to hear the tiniest of farts with no luck. In and out in half the time too Come on man, savor it.

So here I am, back home at 9pm, only to have to return to work in 10 hours. Greeeeat. Love it. I want to go to bed, but the farts I have been dropped have been repulsive. I dragged a heater from the kitchen to the office and it was so bad, I had to grab the can of spray and cover my tracks before the smell got to my wife. It was that bad. So a pooper was in order. Didn’t want to. Had to.

You know that theory about air pressure and flying compacting your poop? Ignore it. Not true. Throw it out the window. Let’s just say that air pressure cannot overcome the diet that you undertake while traveling. It’s mostly always not good. And because of it, my ass just leaked. Still somewhat formed but an amorphous blob in the end. It was either the food or the gas from the food that disrupted the tender turd network into mush. Wiping was hazardous for both me and anyone in a ten foot radius. Good night folks.

Ok, let’s change the subject. My poop! Right, I pooped. Anyway, it was thankfully timber. Some hard logs that dropped out quick and clean. About a foot of shit in total. I think flying and the air pressure compacts your doodie down better, and not to mention it was the catalyst for the ANNIHILATOR and DEVASTATOR, two haloed logs that I think I will recount on the one year anniversary of the Log Log coming up in a month. Sounds good? Good.

So I slept 12 hours last night. Doesn’t happen often, let me tell you. Now you’d think 12 hours laid out would allow my colon to compact my feces into a rock hard ball of glass breaking amazingness, but no. This was almost a brown death drop. Soft and liquidy, it fell out with the quickness. The pile was average sized, but had volume. Avergae mess to clean up, thankfully. Wonder why it didn’t firm up. All I had to eat yesterday was a bagel, pasta and… oh. The 7-11 Cheeseburger Big Bite.

Nevermind. 12 days worth of sleep wouldn’t make a bowel movement after that hard and firm. No wonder I blocked that from my memory, I couldn’t even finish half of it. As my wife accurately described it, it looked like you took a hot dog and let it roll around in the dirt for a month and then served it. Yeah. And I bought it! Standards. I have none.