11:28am Bradford, home toilet

Back on home turf, a morning’s farting in bed told me my guts were ready to burst, I’d cooked up a real steamy dutch oven and the air was a thick gray soup. I had big expectations, but then, I barely ate yesterday, so it was going to be a coin toss when I got down to business.
The excitement was palpable: I could wait no longer.
And after all that, another non-starter. To its credit, the apple and ginger hints were a nuance that would romance any nostril, but the farts had put the poo on such a pedestal that it could never live up to. As I re-spread my cheeks and pushed so hard I began to develop a headache, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I acquiesced, and wiped.
*

12:45pm Home toilet

An unexpected pre-shower lump, mostly air and barely worth wiping
*

22:03pm Home

After an afternoon eating salami and cheese, I expected this to be a difficult task, and at first it lived up to it’s billing. I thrashed around on the seat, nearly turning my anus inside out, and it seemed as if nothing was coming out. However, looking through my legs I spied three uniformly cylindrical, but rough edged logs smiling back at me. To my great delight they had slipped out unnoticed, dancing into the water without so much as a ripple. Bookended by a few empty pea husks and leaving minimal skiddage, a wholly satisfactory experience.
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