9:38am Liverpool Adelphi Hotel

Coming off the back of a week of savage diarrhoea my body had clearly tried to liquidise yesterday’s Chinese buffet, and with limited success. It slid out beautifully, and with minimum effort, the ease and gentle tickle of a wet stool and none of the soreness usually associated with wiping. And the stench, one to tear the contents of the stomach out in a violent, uncontrollable retch. A pleasure.


13:32pm Liverpool Philharmonic Pub

A turd with much to live up to, and not wanting to be overshadowed by this morning’s behemoth, it really had to make the effort. Sadly it did nothing but disappoint. A real gut strainer, it was a much sticker, trickier affair for the most part (but still big on aroma). Perhaps suffering from stagefright, being defacated into the bowl of the famous Philharmonic pub toilet, or perhaps just low on source material, the birth was a great let-down.

One must note, though, that the sloppy second act did make wiping easier than would be first expected.


20:49pm Home, Bradford

A non-event, a fecal whisper in the shape of a coiled drinking straw. Fully solid, but left a skid.