How to Enjoy the Deuce Diaries

Like a bad CSI episode, this blog will keep you guessing until the last minute. I will bring to you the past, present, and future of my bathroom emergencies. I encourage you to post your own stories, express your sympathies, or make suggestions to make my life better under the comments after any blog that moves you. If you are looking for the sheer entertainment of the truthful near-deuce (in pants) encounters, then read the "Deuce-aster stories." If you are looking to play the guess what's triggering the irritable bowel syndrome home game, read the "Daily Diet and Deuce Effects" posts which are labeled by date. In these posts, I will describe what I ate and what level of stress or nervousness I was dealing with. But like searching through a big dump after eating a few Chipotle burritos, you will find some kernels of goodness in these posts. This is because my life is a constant adventure. My stomach is like Mount Vesuvius, ready to explode at any moment and bring hell upon any day. Therefore, you just might find another entertaining story about the runs. And you may be Sherlock Holmes and find the way to stop this menace!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Call to arms

I have reached the point in my life where my creativity well has run dry. The Dannon Activia has plugged up the anus in a way I never thought possible. Since my last post I have ventured to the magical land of Japan where the public restrooms are so spotless you almost feel comfortable accepting their offered spray of water to cleanse the dirty blowhole. I have felt the ill-effects of traveling without the Activia and having to drop the post-alcohol binge deuce in a lockless bar bathroom with piss and barf remnants on the floor where the pants would hit in a natural deuce position only to discover there are 6 inches of toilet paper. Beyond that, my life has be relatively devoid of inspiration for the greatest diary ever me at least.

So I employ the loyal deuce followers to share your stories. There have been several comments posted claiming "I have so many stories to share" etc. I know there are millions of you out there who out of necessity have crapped outside, in your pants, on your significant other etc. Activia is sold by the millions and even Jamie Lee Curtis is on tv telling us how she can't shit normally. So I ask you, no I beg you, to share your embarrassing story with the deuce diaries. Leave it as a comment, and I will move it to the big lights of a main post.

Us random deuce droppers must unite. We must fight our independence. Not from tyranny or persecution. But fight for our right to deuce. To band together as one group who declares in one voice that we will not be ashamed of crapping where one ought not crap. We will not go up four stories in our building to avoid being heard dumping by our co-workers. We will not flinch when the door accidentally flies open to reveal us in our deucy vulnerability. We are going to deuce on!

Thanks Bill!

In an awesome turn of events, a man named Bill was encouraged to come visit this wonderful, but dormant site. Fortunately for the world of deucers, Bill had a story of his own to share. An instant classic. So a nod to Bill, where ever you are, thanks for sharing this story:

"One sunday morning before leaving for basketball, the hot wings from the night before started trying to come back out into the world for another look. After two rounds of thanking the porcelain gods, I decided I was okay to make the 15 minute ride to the court. Half way there I realized just how wrong I was. I was soooo wrong that there was no time to find a bathroom on the side of the highway. The next exit was going to have to suffice. My thoughts were just pull over and dump on the sidewalk like an untrained dog. I saw some bushes in front of someone's house on a string of row-homes that would hide me at least a little bit. As I turn to pull down my pants and bare all to the world at 7:15 AM (all church goers), I saw a gift from above across the street...A dumpster with a two sided wall around the back of it. I ran over about to burst and decided I was going to have to get in, but as luck would have it there was a card board box behind it. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH relief. An explosion that rivals the A-bomb directly into the box. Using an old sock in my car to clean up, and tossing the box into the dumpster I was ready to go play ball. Actually, one more round at the court and I was lighter than ever."

Thursday, January 22, 2009

January 22

I have come to realize that if I take a yogurt at night and have a bowl of cheerios in the morning, a deuce will inevitably follow within 5-10 minutes of finishing the bowl of cereal. Without the cheerios, I can store the very sludge that wants so desperately to come out for hours. Therefore, life is so much better when I have the time and inclination to eat a bowl of cheerios in the morning.

This particular morning, the cheerios induced deuce allowed me to flawlessly relinquish 1.4 pounds of excrement. At the sight of it, I thought I had dropped off two pounds. It must have not been a dense dump, becuase it created a mound that pierced the sky. In fact, I was in danger of leaving such an architectural wonder that had I released any more building blocks the deuce tower would have approached my cement factory.

---Deuces Wild

Friday, January 2, 2009

Sad Truth

The holidays came and went and the deuce diaries failed to earn me any christmas cash. In an ominous reverse game of chicken or the egg, it is unclear which died first the ad revenue or the deuce writing. While the holiday overeating led first to some constipation and then to some soft semi-sloppy craps, nothing worthy of print occurred. I believe I broke the record for the Deuces Wild's largest deuce in history, but I failed to the proper measurements before and after the big show. It started off with a firm log that felt as if it could end the performance. But after a brief squeeze, the rest of the load was dropped into the hatch prepared for launch. That seems to be a familiar story these days.

I digress. Allow me to get to the point. There is only so much time I can devote to blogging about my dumps without some sort of financial benefit. There are great links on the side bars for such products as the self-wipe toilet aid. In case it is absent, you can check it out here: Self Wiper I don't know why but there is something about this product and the picture that makes me laugh. I probably won't be laughing when some sort of debilitation forces me to buy it. Until then, I'll get some joy out of the picture of the arm flexing and holding an anal wiping apparatus.

Let me get to the point. I have a few more hilarious stories that need to be shared. But you must do your part. Show me the money! And give me some feedback in the comments while you are at it. In the meantime, I am going to go lay down. I ate too much Indian food and am suffering through a minor case of the mud butt. I had a few thick squirts of dirty, curry-fried butt cream and am hopeful that a going horizontal may keep the remaining feces in place within the intestines until it has ample opportunity to solidify.

Until next time....

Monday, December 8, 2008

The Missing Days

I should say that for the past month and a half I have stayed exclusively with the dannon activia yogurt. The days of switching back and forth between yogurt, nothing, and align gi caused so many troubles it wasn't worth it. While there are few food more vile after a night of heavy drinking, there are few activities more vile than uncontrollable diarrhea. While this past month and a half have been mainly uneventful, there were some concerning incidents. Unfortunately, I do not have the details to pin down the exact root of the problem.

But there was a binge week that created its own nightmares. There were three straight days of three-deuce extravaganzas. Having been there, done that at this point, I wasn't too excited or concerned. But following these festivals of deuce, was a long weekend of alcohol and greasy food. The Friday night began with a mix of dark beers and a half-pint of Pabst blue ribbon. The following morning began my first all-day drinking fiesta in years. College football started at noon, and so did the drinking. College football continued until midnight, and so did the drinking. Pro football started Sunday at 10 am and so did the massive headache and wet pudding craps. In between this time was fried food, cheesy food, and general greasiness. Oh, and I can't forget the college football pause for Indian food. Lots and lots of spicy Indian food was inhaled in a drunken rage.

Now that I had started indulging, I was on a roll. The next few days continued with french fries, hamburgers, nachos, cake, pie and other fatty foods. Then came the return of the Bluddeanous. It started with just a touch of red within the mounds of brown. Nothing to be concerned about as this has occurred before. Soon enough, however, came rivers of blood. Not just a drop or two, it appeared as if the toilet was in the ER. This occurred for a few days and got to the point where I would crap more blood than...well.... crap. Not good. Not good at all. But having just written the post about my anal suppository experience, I was well-refreshed in what would happen if I went to the doctor with my bloody secret. So I kept it to myself (and the toilet bowl of course) and prayed that I would heal on my own. I should mention that I also saw an ER episode where a woman died bleeding out of her butt. There are some embarrassing ways to say goodbye to the physical world, but I can think of few worse than being done in by a leaky hemorrhoid. So I monitored the situation and thankfully my deuces returned to normal (at least normal for me) after a few healthy meals and added fiber to the diet.

Friday, December 5, 2008


After my morning bowl of cereal, and before my morning wee, I released 2.1 pounds of excrement. Some of that had to be the urination that was stored through the night, but I was still impressed. The first half pound (that's a guess, no intermediate measurement was taken) was expelled with ease. Then I hit the deucer's equivalent of the runner's wall. I knew I had more left deep in me, but I was stuck at a stopping point. I did something the doctors have told me countless times not to do. I gave it a little squeeze or two. After I squeezed off a few rounds, the river of dump started flowing. The last pound came out effortlessly and I am now ready to start my day.

Thursday, December 4, 2008


A .7 pounder this morning. Needless to say I was disappointed.