Oh man, I can't believe I'm relating this one...
Legless's Barium Shit story reminded me of the last time I was.. uh.. clogged up. The easily squeamed may wish to look away now.

To this day I don't know what happened, but for some reason I was having problems producing anything one morning. I could feel something lurking in there ready to emerge but the bloody thing just would fit through the exit. Immense pain, cold sweats, tensing and relaxing, mild panic, dear lord in heaven please don't leave me looking like Mr. Goatse!

After wondering if a trip to casualty was in order, I hit upon the bright idea of cutting it up with a fork handle. I wiped up what little I'd managed and waddled into the kitchen (feeling dainty at this point) and selected the thinnest handled fork I could fine - a spare from the old set no longer used. Back in the toilet I stuck the handle up my arse into... omg... a solid lump. Oh my god.

I waggled it a bit, and could feel the entire mass turning slowly within my bowels. It was the most disturbing thing I have ever experienced. Somehow, while my eyes streamed tears of pain, panic and probably shame, I managed to draw and quarter the bastard. A couple of minutes waggling my hips to try and reshape it and I was ready to try again.

Success! (Praise Jebus!) The monstrosity slid out into the tranquil waters of the toilet bowl with nary a wimper, and all was well. I turned to face my vanquished foe (because you just have to, right?) and discovered a flat, tennis-ball-sized lump that was the colour of earwax and the consistency of plasticine. Have you ever tried cutting plasticine? Imagine trying to cut it with a fork handle. While it's up your arse. Oh my.

I threw the fork away. No way was it staying in my house.

Length? It was the width that was giving me problems!
( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Fri 2 Sep 2005, 12:45, Reply)