The second turd came to me in a vision, a dream the night before. Not really, but if it did, it'd have said "Tom, I'm going to make the hiroshima bomb look like a nativity play."
Still not fully recovered from the last one I embarked on a physically and mentally gruelling journey back to the toilet, I knew I should leave it, but I really did need a cack. The good news is the turd was in one quick burst, the bad news that this special delivery tore me a new arsehole. I feel like someones rammed a postbox up my arse.
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