Barium Shits.
Years ago I was diagnosed with a stomach ulcer and had to go for hospital for tests, the main one being a Barium Meal.

Now this is a process where you drink a polystyrene beaker of sludge and they X-ray you to find out what your insides look like as Barium is opaque to x-rays. So they strapped me on the table (the table moves and swivels as well) and gave a this beaker of "Strawberry Flavoured" barium sludge. I nearly broke my wrist! It was a bout a pint of barium sludge and it weighed a fucking ton. It felt as if the beaker was filled with lead. And drinking it was like pouring slow-setting concrete down my throat. Not nice.

Anyway, tests over I headed for home. The next day I awoke bright and early and went for my usual morning dump. But something was wrong. I could feel immense pressure in my guts, but strain as I might, nothing was moving. Refusing to be beaten by a turd, I gathered my will and went for a knuckle-biting strain and Glory Be! I felt the obstruction start to move. Now once this fucker was on it's way, nothing was going to stop it. It was with a feeling of horror that I felt my poor arsehole stretching to dimensions it was never designed for. I was actually moaning softly now. The Turd Of Gods continued to force it's way out of my and eventually crashed into the waiting bowl with the power and majesty of the launching of the Titanic. The noise was deafening - a bit like hearing a torpedo being launched.

Now rid of my burden, I wiped and stood up (and to borrow a line off Stutz79) weak and shaken like a freshly raped dog. I peered into the bowl for the cause of my discomfort and gazed upon an enormous, bright pink turd. It was a thing of awe. About 10 inches long and about 4 inches thick, it lay there at the bottom of my toilet bowl like decomposing shark. I was impressed!

After a while of looking at my handiwork I thought I'd better flush and get on with the day. So I did. And looked and there it was. The flushing hadn't even moved it a millimetre. So I tired again, and again. Still the fucker wouldn't move. Eventually I gave up and went downstairs for a carrier bag which I put over my arm and reached in to grasp the offender and lift it out of the bog. I swear the bugger weighed about 5 pounds. It truly was the Turd of The Gods.

I disposed of it, well wrapped up, into the dustbin but, looking back, I really wish I'd taken a picture of the bugger.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 2 Sep 2005, 12:25, Reply)