There’s little pride left in a man who bakes his brownies outside of the oven…shits out of the toilet if you didn’t catch my drift. I shit regularly and by regularly I mean a lot and by a lot I mean all the fucking time…well maybe just twice a day, but that’s still one hell of a healthy colon! Being the experienced shitter that I am I took it upon myself in my childhood to experiment with the many nooks and crannies I could defecate into.

The master steamy defiling, my poop de resistance occurred on a day where I was awaiting the nasty end to a relationship between me and a skirt. I was to have dinner with the folks post breakup and as I sat waiting in the dining area, my belly already full of disgust, I decided to release some steamy significance of the evenings coming events in the corn chowder.

During diner the skirt laid down the news for the folks, explaining our ‘mutual’ agreement, I waited until the uncomfortable silence settled in for the punch line and then said: “Love is like a dish served with a surprise, never knowing what ingredients truly make the taste. Sometimes the dish can be tasty at first and sometimes you can you can learn that what you’ve just eaten is rotten at the core. If I had to say what our love has been, I would say…corn chowder.” Then I placed the serving bowl of corn chowder in front of the skirt and feeling full of pride, left the scene.