Hey there folks.
I--like real men--enjoy greeting the day by making a deposit at the bank if you catch my drift. Whenever I wake up, I go to the bathroom and take a massive dump. Because of how big they tend to be, I make it a tradition to clog the hell out of a new toilet with the biggest shit I can muster. I may only be 140 pounds, but somehow I can excrete more bodily waste than an obese cashier at Wendys.
I recently moved in with my father, and to go along with his new bathroom is the toilet that Zeus apparently took shits with. It's the most powerful toilet you can imagine; it'll flush anything, so I clearly saw it as a challenge. Every morning I attempted to duel with this toilet to make it beg for mercy, but to no avail. For the past two weeks I've failed on every occasion to clog it, no matter how big the turd might be. My dad mocks me for it because it makes me less of a man if a man's own shit can't clog his toilet on at least one occasion.
But one morning I must've spent nearly an hour on the crapper; the ground was cracking beneath my feet from all the tension and I wouldn't be surprised if I gave myself an anal fissure in the process. The titanic log was still in contact with my asshole when I sat up; a true testament to its size. Being tired, I wiped my ass, threw the bloody toilet paper into the toilet and flushed it. Before I could walk out of the bathroom, I heard the toilet gurgle. My father got up out of his bed and heard it as well, and we all knew what had happened.
My dad cautiously approached the toiler to see what was the matter and peering unto the toilet. It was like a sonic boom had shook the house. As I watched, a metaphorical bomb went off as an explosion shot outwards out of the toilet, showering the ceiling and nearby walls in a shitstorm of grandiose proportions. The slew of wet toilet paper and crap spackled and peppered everything nearby, including my poor father. At that point, the rotting sewage began pumping out of the toilet, flooding the floor and soaking the shit-encrusted mats in disgusting brown water. The humidity throughout the house forced everybody to literally taste the fecal matter in the air. The smell was intoxicating enough to make any normal man start vomiting uncontrollably, including my poor father.
And right there, in that very moment in time, where I should've been overwhelmed with disgust and horror from what I've given birth to... for once in my 19 years of life I felt a genuine sense of pride in what I had accomplished there. My weekend was shot, seeing how I spent all of it retiling the whole bathroom while installing the new toilet and sink dirtied by the expedition.
But whenever I think back to that moment, all I see is that fulsome extravagant explosion in slow motion as O Fortuna blares in the background.
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