| Comment | It’s like it had been starting to desolidify rapidly under the extreme pressure it must have been under as i clenched my teeth and thought of Nick Hancock on that celebrity jungle thing or Scotlands first half performance last night, any sort of shite really apart from my own shite
But when I finally reached the porcelain throne it blasted out with all of it’s might, the sort of disgusting stinky porridge shite first, blasting itself into the water like a disintegrating meteor into Loch Lomond.
But then the perfectly formed twelve incher curled itself out majestically, proudly resting itself on the vile mess I had just created, as I grimaced, tearing the toilet roll holder off the wall and slamming my head against the tiles
A smaller eight incher curled itself out afterwards, and then a little four incher fell through my gaping rim, barely even brushing the sides
After I had stopped screaming, I heard a child crying in the distance as a dog howled towards the moon
8.5/10, pretty good but had better |
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