Wednesday, August 29, 2012

bûche d'enfer

I wish I had taken a photograph of the log I shat out earlier today, during my lunch break. By log standards, it wasn't all that large, but what distinguished it from all other toilet logs in the universe was its posture: the log stood rigidly at attention at the bottom of the toilet bowl, perfectly, magnificently vertical.

My log looked like nothing so much as the Space Shuttle: a narrow top, and a bottom that flared outward laterally, giving the impression of a large fuel tank flanked by two solid rocket boosters. I could almost imagine tiny astronauts on board my log, counting down to a spectacular, toilet-shattering launch. I was tempted, sorely tempted, to pull out my phone camera and snap a shot for posterity, but I'm still too much of a pussy to photoblog my own shits. The moment passed; I flushed, and my proud log departed the scene with stately dignity.

In my mind, a lorn bugle played "Taps."



Bratfink said...

Thanks for the laugh. I really needed one.

[Cripes! I can't read the capshas!]

Elisson said...

I do not photoblog my turds either: That would be nekulturny. However, like you, I am not above writing about them.

Vertical doodie, eh? Reminds me of this...

Maven said...

Truly a lovely and fitting homage to your morning evacuation.

If you are in need of a photograph, might I interest you in a picture of the turd my co-irker sent to my WORKPLACE IN BOX? Six years later, I am still baffled why she felt compelled to share this photographic detail with me, and I shudder every time I think of the paucity of TP.