10:12am    Home turf


Driven to near madness I had tossed and turned throughout the night, my guts rapt with unfathomable torment at the hands of an overdose of cheese and salami. I had purchased a great deal of salami days before and had rationed well, but alas tonight I was overcome, and, like the glutton in us all, I had eaten all of it (paper wrapping included).

In my porcine avarice I had also neglected to acquire a fresh supply of toilet paper, and having greedily usurped the entire stash yesterday, I was in a great deal of trouble.

The knives in my gut were going to cut their way out anyway, the only option was to do the deed and weigh up my chances afterwards.

I immediately got to work, spraying the thick, oily juice in great globules into the hungry bowl. The stench was overwhelming and was sure to seep into the pores of my skin and clothing. The cheese had curdled to make a soupy paste, and in that sat undigested hunks of salami, pepperami and chorizo.

The disgusting mess resembled the sad, crumpled face of “TV’s” Joe Pasquale. Not out of pure chance, but because Joe Pasquale’s sad, crumpled face closely resembles a heap of semi-digested faeces. Many times in fact I would look down between my legs and gasp “Oh, is that Jo- ? Oh no, my mistake. It is not the tired, cliche spouting face of “TV’s” Joe Pasquale. It is in fact a steaming pile of excrement”

I was now faced with a dilemma. In that, just as Joe Pasquale surely finds himself on a daily basis, I was covered in vile smelling excrement and had used all of my toilet paper up masturbating.

Like anyone would have done I spied the inviting shower cubicle and thought “Yes please”.

And so taking great care as to keep my anus directly above my heels so as to catch any straggling lumps too weak to cling on, I quickly removed all of the sponges from the floor of the shower and stepped in. Luckily I had been naked anyway, (as I was alone in the house and it is common practice) so I was spared the problem of disrobing in this most delicate of predicaments. I turned on the shower and began to spray my filthy bottom with tepid water until both it and the floor of the shower were clean.

For many this would seem to represent perhaps a low ebb in their life plans. For me, I merely considered what it must be like to be Joe Pasquale, and felt instantly better.