Hi everyone, welcome to another installment of "Tim an Masochist." Today was a weird day for me physically, not at all what I expected to happen. And I know you're all holding out for my insane pooping stories, but I don't really know what's going on in my guts right now.
I started today of pretty normally. Randy came over and we made juice. He will not be joining me for day 3, which I can't say I blame him for. He's got a cookout, I dig it. I drank the juice, it was solid enough. Now that we're on the topic of solids and liquids, let's talk about my poopies.
So last time around, day two was Crapfest 2012. I levitated off the toilet. Today was a little different. Rather than purge my bowels, I instead skipped to the last part of last time. I am currently taking normal composition dooks, but holy sweet moses in the desert, does it reek. I know it was bad last time, but jesus, this ain't even right. I am really glad we're moving at the end of the month, because I don't want to occupy a space that has seen that much... ugly. I'm pretty sure that's how places get haunted.
To be honest with you, I'm a little freaked out. I treat every fart like it's the big one. You know the one. The one where you let it go, then wait a polite amount of time and go make sure you didn't shit your pants a little. And you totally did. I keep expecting this to get bad, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop here. I'm a little too traumatized from last time to think I'm gonna get out of this clean. I am preparing for another late night attack. God help me. God help us all.
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