Nothing serious, just another painful shat.

It may sound dull. It is hurting indeed.😖

As I was expecting I am in great bowels pain. Yesterday I ordered a mussel soup for lunch. I hate loads of bread with it. Now I suffer. I deserve this.

But maybe, could be a little bit less, couldn’t it?

The vast majority of my crap-sessions are accompanied by music.

Even shit has its own feelings! I just try to indulge ‘em!

🎵💩🎶

Try to imagine my shit dancing in the pool, now!

Descending of a long tird on the promise land pool.

All the inhabitants of my toilet are jaw-drop astonished.

If we invented smart-working, I imagine upgrading my shats with smart-shitting.
There will be sort of a A-portal-device inside my pants, and one B-portal on top of my toilet.

There it is! smart-shitting!
It would have been pretty useful even right now, the smell is terrible!

I am suffering through the pains of hell!!

I thought quit eating any bread or pizza would have helped me ceasing this freaking disease. Was I write? Was I wrong?

Surely (and sourly) I shouldn’t have eaten that enormous burger yesterday at lunch.

There was a patty, caramelised onions, grilled cheese and litres of sauces. It was fat. It was good. It made me the happiest person on the universe. I needed it.

And now I got to pay for it. Life sucks

Lightly relaxed, playing with my phone, laying on the sofa.

BOOOOOOMMM. A bomb just exploded in my belly, tangling my bowels.

Why do I have to suffer this much? God, why???

God is full of shit.

Eating hamburger at lunch is not a sustainable choice. Either for the planet and for my bowels.

Third shit for today!!

Mini turds!

Just 2. One-inch long

That’s not the place for lament, yet pooping and sharing was more exciting when I was with my girlfriend, she was one of my greatest supporters.

What hurts most is she still is one of my greatest supporters, but she cannot stay with me.

It hurts. My shit ist duller. But I’ll keep posting. She might be proud of me when we will meet again in the future. Long distant future.

Djckcjensksicirjricosmajwifjfofj

This was the way of describing my morning shat.

This one’s utter evil.

It is really difficult to express the feeling of having kind of muscular wrestler hands stretching my bowels as strongly as they can.

Ouch. IT HUUURTS!

Sometimes I just feel like a toothpaste tube full of shit self-filling every day.

Surely enough my toilet in the morning cannot smell like a freshly brushed mouth.

Some weeks ago I started taking climbing lessons.

In the meanwhile I started going everywhere with my bicycle.

In the meanwhile I quit drinking. Cold-turkey.

In the meanwhile I easily become skin and bones.

Shitting became the most difficult things of all. There’s nothing inside meeeeee!

That’s a blog. Web page.

That is a blob. Wet rage.