My wife's company sent her on a training session for a week
leaving me on my own to fend for myself. I'm a man about the house; I can put up shelves and shit, but the kitchen is not my domain. Raised by a single mother on Tesco Value ingredients, I simply don't give a toss about how food tastes and will comfortably survive on bowls of plain boiled pasta for days on end if it gives me more time to do more interesting things.

And that's what I did. Spaghetti, fusilli, penne, Bob the Builder pasta shapes; I just boiled it up and shovelled it into my mouth to keep my essential organs working until the wife returned.

The plan backfired around day 4, when my pasta intake finally required egress from my bowels. For half a week my intestines had been pumping away, ramming the waste matter into my colon in the vain hope that it would pass smoothly out the other end. But no. Like a log jam on the Mississippi, the shit backed up into a poo of epic proportions; long, thick and solid like those olde worlde cast iron bollards that market towns erect on pedestrian-only streets.

I waddled to my porcelain throne with a thick novel, safe in the knowledge that my turd-time would be uninterrupted in my eerily quiet, wifeless abode.

I read a dozen pages before my sphincter had dilated enough for the end of the turd to make its appearance. But unlike a child sliding happily down a helter skelter, my pasta poo had the same crushing strength of a glacier trudging relentlessly down a mountain valley. I strained. Sweat broke out. Still the mighty pillar of shit pressed on, stretching me wider. I gasped, dropping my book and losing my page. More pressure. I tried squeezing my sphincter, hoping to slice this mighty log into smaller oreo-sized wafers, but it was too thick, too solid for that, and my feeble muscle could do little more than make a ribbed indentation on the surface.

Still the shit ploughed on. It felt like trying to put a condom on a traffic cone, or having a colonoscopy performed by Wizbit. I gripped my ankles, core muscles clenched in a desperate attempt to vacate by bowels. Onwards it ploughed, inexorably heading downwards into the still pool of the toilet bowl. I panted, ground my teeth, breathed in through my nostrils and with one final bellow like an enraged bison, I called forth all my strength and hurled the last of the poo out of my arsehole.

There was no satisfying splash. No plop marked the turd's final passing. Instead, a careful listener may have heard a whistle as the air rushed in to fill the vacuum inside my bowels. I sat, shuddering, waiting an eternity for my muscles to relax enough for me to sit up straight. The turd stood proud and upright, tip gently kissing the inner rim of the toilet bowl like a brown totem to Golgotha. It was over.

Three days later, I picked up my wife from the airport. She was happy to see me, but annoyed that she had to lift her own gargantuan suitcase into the back of the car, as I'd "hurt a muscle exercising" while she was away. It was only at home later in the bathroom, while I took a shower and she brushed her teeth, that she caught a glimpse of my poor tattered anus in the mirror and choked on her toothpaste.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 8:54, 10 replies)

So that I don't accidentally beat your story
I'm going to post a gif here, where it can't hurt anyone. I hope it give you pleasure.
( Two Hats I saw someone eating M&M's with a spoon, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:22, closed)

there

( Two Hats I saw someone eating M&M's with a spoon, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:22, closed)

yeah that's a pretty good one

( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:23, closed)

k, reporting this to the mods

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:30, closed)

Come on, we've all been so caned that our heads have flown off and we've turned into elderly Sam Jackson, right?

( Two Hats I saw someone eating M&M's with a spoon, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:34, closed)

shit, I thought it was an angry Morgan Freeman

( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:37, closed)

It's whatever you want it to be

( Two Hats I saw someone eating M&M's with a spoon, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:48, closed)

he was great in the matrix

(Baggenfrock get fucked, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 12:52, closed)

Awesome Superbowl commercial

( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 16:11, closed)

Fuck off MGT

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:37, closed)

damned with faint praise

( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 9:43, closed)

first story on qftw in months that's deserved a click
so i haven't clicked it
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 11:53, closed)

i took a big shit.
Five words.
(hiraeth SPACE £19.99. I say yer buy one yer get one free, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 13:33, closed)

you never took a shit like this one though

( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 13:44, closed)

alright 'edwyn collins'

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 20:59, closed)

Wizbit clicks

( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 15:17, closed)

Pooing stories always get a click from me.

( Slippery Mick ‏, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 17:09, closed)

Think yourself lucky!
I once had to use a shower to help shift one of those turds. I think my arse took about 3 years to recover.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 19:08, closed)

oh dear GOD why haven't more of you heard of the benefits of fibre?

( vladimir, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 20:01, closed)

Logged in to click for
Instead, a careful listener may have heard a whistle as the air rushed in to fill the vacuum inside my bowels.
*Golf clap*
(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Wed 2 Dec 2015, 23:32, closed)

brown totem click

( ferret -> twitter.com/syfyautocorrect <-, Fri 4 Dec 2015, 12:56, closed)