A few months ago, I pooed a incredibly long poo. This was a perfect log, nary a crack or crease to be found on it, as later inspection would prove.
It slide out of my ass like a velor snake, and as it passed and passed the gates of anoos, my meaty thighs give little trembles of delight. Shit was divine, son.
The only problem was that it was long. Way long. I had exhausted the initial push, and there was still what felt like half of it still lodged in me. So why not draw another breath and push again? Well, I don't know about you but any renewed push is preceded by a small and instantaneous clenching, which would cut this beauty in half. Not only was it a shame to destroy this once in a lifetime turd that literally made me cry with joy, but it was, I suspected, of the slightly greasy variety. Cutting it would ball up the shit around my anus, making wiping more a job of a trowel than a tissue. Plus, there is always the risk of the other half shooting back up deeper in my gut, and this snake was too big for that burrow to be comfy.
So what do I do? I shifted my weight to my feet, raised my ass a bit, and began to rock my ass to and fro, trying to break it with the power of dance. Only it was a stubborn, supple poop, and swayed like a limp rope. Well, chaps, there I was, swinging my ass on the toilet, my shit protruding a hands breadth from my body, when suddenly, like a daring trapeze artist, the poop breaks free on the upswing, and I hear a wet slap as it hits the shallows. Great. A beached whale.
The other half slimes out smug and drops in for a 10/10 dive. I wipe and stand, staring at this long greasy plesiosaur, lying half in, half out of the water. I flush to no avail. The shit hitting the open air smells horrible.
There is nothing else to do. I gently close the toilet, leave the room, drink 3 glasses of water, and return to use my piss like a cutting torch, chopping it into pieces before flushing the rest down.
