Hoisted by my own petard. Whatever one of those is. Isn't it a flag or something? Oh a cannon. Well there we go then. Hoisted by my cannon. FINE- hoisted by my boxy bell thing.
Well, anyway:

Made up having irritable bowel syndrome at my last job due to my manager being an evil ho-beast (she deserved the childhood polio, the cow) and just sheer laziness really. Being made to feel like a delinquent because I have red hair etc wasn't really the most fun thing in the world either but anyhoo....

Here I am in my lovely new job which I love and adore and I have... yes, you've guessed it- IBS. Bastard bad IBS, for which I take 3 anti-spasmodic pills a day (they're called mebeverine if you're interested) and occasionally can't come in to work as I'm chained invisibly to the throne. It's also bad because I used to really enjoy going for a poo, and now it tends to be more traumatic than relaxing.

EDIT: forgot the worst bit about it: the farting. It always comes on full and weighty midday time, and trying to deflate at work in a crowded office without being caught is the most difficult thing in the world.

[insert length/width thing here]
( Captain Wow currently being a cunt in Infamous, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 15:27, Reply)