bloody hell.

returned from the throne about fifteen minutes ago and i'm still trembling slightly. after the consumption of a couple of pepperamis and a nice pint of stout last night, my anus is feeling slightly worse for wear, due to a particularly spiky turd earlier in the day. standard fare after pub snacks, i didn't think too much of it. just nipped to the bog for my second of the day, two wipes later and i'm in a little pain. obviously following standard procedure, i take a safety wipe, and lo and behold, a little speck of blood on the paper. great.

ney

after yesterday's tragedy, you'd think it'd be a safe assumption that today's cack would be an improvement. think again. it was like sucking a golf ball through a hose.

cider.

i hate cider shits. I HATE CIDER SHITS. you could literally have sieved the contents of my arse today and probably have ended up with something of comparable quality to frosty jack's. I FUCKING HATE CIDER SHITS.

kreig

today's cack reminded me of war reenactments, where my arse played the part of the nazi bombers blitzing down brown bombs, and the cistern adopting the role of mainland europe, accepting them unwillingly.

doctrine

today's cack reminded me of american legislation. specifically, the 'elephant in a mousehole' doctrine. yes, today's cack was absolutely fucking massive.

arid.

today's cack was drier than africa. seriously. it was like shitting small bits of sand, but without the fun of being able to build a sandcastle afterwards.

buisness

carlsberg don't do shits, but if they did, they'd:
i) lose a lot of money because there plain just isn't a market for turd
ii) be fucking weird
iii) have just missed out on a fine specimen currently floating halfway down the tyne.

today's cack was so good that, if packaged, people would probably buy it as a benchmark to godly turds.

triplets

i have returned from a weekend of hell. the occurrences of the past weekend came as three, as they often do, and not one was an experience i wish to repeat.

the first came in the form of a deep sea diver - a turd so dense and sizeable it resulted in a tsunami of splashback- so much so, in fact, that splashback does not even begin to describe it. the resulting bathroom scene resembled haiti; disgruntled browns spread throughout wreckage.


perhaps the worst of the trio came second, the day after. after consuming a hefty amount of cheap pizza on the first day, it would have been naive of me to expect a perfect turd. the exit resembled a shotgun blast. terrible.


finally, the third triplet was reminiscent of dr. frankenstein's creation. laced with partially digested jalapeños, the concluding turd was like, as alluded to above, creating a monster. if it had legs it'd have climbed out the throne and consumed me whole.

i write these words not to entertain you, but to humbly ask you proceed with caution with any future ventures to the deep you may participate in.

-jake

Guest Update 2: 3 wipes bish, bash, bosh!

In the words of alex himself, today was the best shit of his life and he just had to blog about it.
It sounded exactly the same as when you hurl a large rock into a pond and you get both the splash and the plop. We in the business describe these as submarine turds however they can form into a houdini turd and disappear before your very eyes...

bleh.

you know how you occasionally get those piss shit combos where your willy pokes underneath the rim of the seat and you end up pissing all over your boxers? yeah? well, today's cack wasn't one of those. today's cack, in fact, was nothing special at all. unfortunately. just a swift in out job, can't have lasted more than a minute. meh.

Browns Go Home

Yeah, browns actually left home today, left their country of myahsoul to go swimming. It's really hard to describe how harsh this was on me but I've drawn a diagram to help you understand what experiencing this turd was like.

myth busted

yeah, today's cack was so big i could've put it in a stamped adressed envelope to mythbusters with the attatchment "loch ness monster: myth busted."

fa-peh!

today's cack brought a new meaning to 'the turk's head'. smelled like a kebab.