I am called...

do expand on how you managed to do twice in a week something most people only achieve once in a decade (unless you're medically incontinent)
 
come my dear. over here. to waffle. sit down.. there you go.

now tell us all about this pooing of the pantaloons my good man.
 
My thanks to you all for such colourful reception to my fecal folly... let me tell you a story...

On the glorious beaches of Pula I strutted, surrounded by those of like-mind - with zero regard to the toll copious consumption of all varieties, minimal snooze and suspect Croatian gastronomy would inevitably play on the collective bowel. I felt invincible, shielded by an aura of disregard for my own body, rays and a big chunka vibe. Then nature called me.

At first it was fine... nothing but a good'ol jimmy to entertain... but.. just like that, I was cruelly parted with the control I've become so lovingly accustomed to and thrown into a hellish abyss of incontinence.. poo came out of my bum.. and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was scared, confused.. and in eye-watering agony as the acidic bile which had emerged from my behind went to work on my treasured soft tissue. Having effectively ostracised myself I whispered my goodbyes to the rave collective gathered on the beach behind me, no doubt already mourning my pooey departure. Onwards I hobbled falling prey to increasingly antagonizing hits of pain, pulsing from my now red-raw arsehole.

After what seemed like a millennia I caught sight of the shower-block, a new-found Mecca to my poor poor bum. It's angelic call breathed new found life into my broken body. And finally... relief.. I'd done it.. the long road behind me a distant memory.. I gleefully rinsed myself in the heavenly torrent.. washing away the heartbreak... a new man... a stronger man..

Later in the week... it happened again.
 
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My thanks to you all for such colourful reception to my fecal folly... let me tell you a story...

On the glorious beaches of Pula I strutted, surrounded by those of like-mind - with zero regard to the toll copious consumption of all varieties, minimal snooze and suspect Croatian gastronomy would inevitably play on the collective bowel. I felt invincible, shielded by an aura of disregard for my own body, rays and a big chunka vibe. Then nature called me.

At first it was fine... nothing but a good'ol jimmy to entertain... but.. just like that, I was cruelly parted with the control I've become so lovingly accustomed and thrown into a hellish abyss of incontinence.. poo came out of my bum.. and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was scared, confused.. and in eye-watering agony as the acidic bile which had emerged from my behind went to work on my treasured soft tissue. Having effectively ostracised myself I whispered my goodbyes to the rave collective gathered on the beach behind me, no doubt already mourning my pooey departure. Onwards I hobbled falling prey to increasingly antagonizing hits of pain, pulsing from my now red-raw arsehole.

After what seemed like a millennia I caught sight of the shower-block, a new-found Mecca to my poor poor bum. It's angelic call breathed new found life into my broken body. And finally... relief.. I'd done it.. the long road behind me a distant memory.. I gleefully rinsed myself in the heavenly torrent.. washing away the heartbreak... a new man... a stronger man..

Later in the week... it happened again.
While reading this very delightful yet disturbing post, one image and one image only came into my mind:

o-ATOMIC-BOMB-BRAIN-facebook.jpg
 
if you were on the beach, wearing swimwear, why didnt you just wade out in the surf, swim out a bit, and start fixing up? i was about to put "initiate self destruct sequence", but that was because of darkysidros colorful image, i cant explain it any other way.

only that i find it comforting. the word "death". and "satan". these words soothe me and mean pretty much the same thing. which admittedly is weird, but its better than my previous mental "quiet place" which was... you know what, never mind. were all here now, and i think that should be celebrated, here:

 
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if you were on the beach, wearing swimwear, why didnt you just wade out in the surf, swim out a bit, and start fixing up? i was about to put "initiate self destruct sequence", but that was because of darkysidros colorful image, i cant explain it any other way.

only that i find it comforting. the word "death". and "satan". these words soothe me and mean pretty much the same thing. which admittedly is weird, but its better than my previous mental "quiet place" which was... you know what, never mind. were all here now, and i think that should be celebrated, here:

 
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