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!

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.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Bluddeanous: The aftermath

As I have mentioned before, there are some stories that I should learn to keep private. Especially since there are individuals out there who know the real identity of Deuces Wild. Would Clark Kent parade around in nut-hugging red speedos over blue tights if people knew he was superman? Probably not. So it is with great hesitation that I share this next story. But as they say in show business, the deuce must go on.

After being diagnosed with hemorrhoids, the doctor wanted to make sure I didn't get an infection. It makes sense, the last thing I would want is green puss excreting from an infected inner anus. If I were my own doctor, I would have recommended that I take antibiotics.

Instead, I was required to take the equivalent of anal neosporin. Probably the grossest prescription known to man: the anal suppository. These bullet shaped hole pluggers needed to be rinsed to moisten the exterior. Then all 2 or 3 inches of it needed to be inserted into my rectum. This was certainly far from enjoyable in its own right. But the results were almost as bad.

The first result of being rammed in the anus was that my fingers would smell like the nastiest place on earth (the Deuces Wild's deucer). Given the raw stench that comes out of my ass, there is no reason to put things at the source. The second result was even worse. As the days would go on, the warmth of my lower intestines would melt the suppositories into a creamy goo. The creamy goo would turn into a creamy brownish white substance that would leak into my underwear. And as being such a deucer, you may have guessed that I tend to expel some noxious gasses more often than most individuals. What you can also probably deduce, farts with a melted gooey suppository are a bad combination. The more explosive the roars from below, the greater the fall out damage was. Each blast required the awkward duckwalk as the goo crawled its way around my lower region in an uncomfortable manner. On lucky days during the suppository times, my boxers would have a gentle creamy stain, creating mild discomfort before they were thankfully removed. On the worst of days, they would be a warzone with caustic debris spattered all over them. Of course there were a few casualties of boxers that needed to be discarded and pants that needed to be triple cleaned before being used again. But while the dirty river of poo-infused, melted neosporin-like cream found its way to deep corners of my skin, there was no green infected puss.

So while I stood humiliated yet again, I at least lived to crap another day. Many days in fact. And with the conclusion of the Bluddeanous Period, it would be several more years into the deuce era before I realized that my bomb-dropping habits were far from normal.

Stay tuned..

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Bluddeanous Period: the conclusion

To recap, the bluddeanous period of my life was a not-so-fresh moment. The discovery of red globs in my dump had put me on edge. The doctors put me on more edge when they made me scrape out dingleberries and poop smears to share with them and when a dirty old man put his finger up my butt. At this point, they decided to scare me with all the terrible things a little rectal bleeding could mean. Cancer, colon polyps, celiac disease, and a host of other things that inevitably lead to death or a lifetime of suffering. So then came the next step....The anal probe.

The anal probe is not a pleasant step in the Bluddeanous Period. It wasn't just the probing of my anus that concerned me, it was also what preceded the ass exploration. And all of this is conducted under a shroud of fear that this may be the last time I count on growing old and possibly accomplishing something great (like blogging about my deucing).

I was scheduled for a colonoscopy several weeks in advance. So I had plenty of time to fear the preparation for the probe, the probe itself, and the possible results of the probe. The rules for a colonoscopy are simple: Get everything out of the system because the doctor doesn't want to be navigating the brown river as he explores the inner intestines. Nor does the doctor want to be dumped on when the probe in-deuces the deuce.

To prepare for the colonoscopy I had to stop eating and limit myself to water only for some time before the big event. I remember 18 hours, but looking online I've seen doctors request a full day. I don't quite remember how long it was, but that was not the difficult part. There was one thing that I was allowed to have...actually one thing that I was required to have in the hours preceding the exploration of my anus. I had to take a very strong laxative. At first I felt a few rumbles. Then I had a very smooth and easy dump. It was almost like drunk people "breaking the seal" by urinating. Once I took this first crap, the floodgates were open. I was enjoying a nice episode of the Golden Girls at the time. Rose was in the process of saying something stupid when my stomach spoke to me forcefully. The gurgles begged me to escape this miserable show and head to the bathroom. Hell hath no fury like a second bowel movement after a pre-colonoscopy laxative. I felt like Harry in Dumb and Dumber. I wished I had a handle by the toilet to brace myself when chunky brown liquid explosively shot from colon. It was wet and it was sloppy. And it was seemingly never-ending. But it did end. And I got back to the tv just in time to see Blanche give me weird feelings as she was acting slutty before I had to return to the bathroom to expel some goo (brown goo, not white goo you perverts, Blanche isn't that sexy).

The night involved being within five feet of the bathroom, which unfortunately was inside the smell-zone radius. I felt urges to fart, but wisely headed to the toilet before attempting to release some gas. Eight out of ten fart urges would have stained my pants had I not taken the precaution. As the night wore on, the deuces evolved from chunky brown liquid, to smooth brown liquid, to yellow liquid with brown sea anemones swimming within, to yellow liquid, to light yellow liquid and finally to near clear liquid. By the end of it, my ass was wiped raw and my boxers needed to be thrown out.

After my colon had fully been cleansed, it was doctor time. The procedure was in the hospital and I had to put on the gown. I never understood why they have the back open for your butt to hang out. If it was reversed, the patient could at least hold the gown closed when the doctor wasn't examining unchartered crevices. Instead, people like me are left demeaned holding the butt of the garb together or exposing their rear end to all the nurses and hospital employees. We should really start a petition to get the gown gap reversed. But I digress.

The last thing I remember from the colonoscopy was being told that I would be awake during the procedure but wouldn't feel a thing or remember it. I was shown the screen would display my bowels to the seemingly full room of doctors, interns and others who wanted to see my anus. Since I thought I might die, I invited my parents. I don't remember if they were in the room when the gown was spread open to reveal my chocolate starfish, but I care not to ask. Some things are better not thought about. So with a room full of people, I was given drugs then the business.

The anal probe revealed that I simply had a case of hemmorhoids. A young recent college grad had the same anal disfunction as an old grandpa. But at least it wasn't anything serious. I thought I would get some preparation H and be on my way. Unfortunately, the doctor had a prescription that I wish I had enough drugs to forget the same way I forgot the anal probe. That my friends, is a story for another day.


Today was a whole TWO pounds released from my innards. I took three weigh-ins and it is even possible that it was a 2.2 pounder (two out of the three said 2.2 pounds, but I refuse to certify results of over two pounds). Unbelievable! And it didn't even pierce the waterline into the free air. I thought the whole pound yesterday was impressive. No wonder I was farting so much last night. I was carrying two pounds of rotting meat and vegetables in my intestines. It was a smooth, easy, and rather wet two pounds. I have gotten back into the habit of eating the Activia Yogurt at night and whole wheat cereal in the morning. It seems to be quite a combo. Tucked in between breakfast and nightly yogurt, I had a vegetarian burrito, rice with black beans and cheese, peanut butter on whole wheat bread, and a bunch of costco samples. Oh and two ice cream sandwiches. No deucasters.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

First weigh in

A one-pound deuce streamed from my bowels. The first half pound came effortlessly while the remnants required a gentle push from within. We will see how long this new weighing technique keeps me interested in writing about my dumps. But for the moment, it is the greatest invention ever!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

brief return 11-11-08

I apologize to all those who heralded my triumphant return after a month long hiatus only to wait a month and half until the next deuce diary entry. Its been a busy few weeks. And in the meantime, my anus has taken a pummeling. Tiring of yogurt (there are only two flavors that are any good and those have gotten old), I resorted to switching off between yogurt, align, and nothing. I've missed days and tried to make them up with two yogurts, a yogurt and align, or two aligns the following day. Not good. Fortunately, there have been only two near-deuce-in pants experiences that I can remember. Neither of which were exciting enough to bring me to blog about it. But both filled the bowl after coming dangerously close to filling my boxers. In between these deuceasters came blood in the toilet bowl, anal explosions, constipation and diarrhea. So life has not been good since I have tired of the yogurt. I am at a cross-roads where I need to decide whether to suck it up and eat my yogurt regularly, or live in fear of painful or uncontrollable craps.

So my latest purchase has the potential to bring me back to the computer to share about my deuces. I was given a scale that I can weigh myself on. I had nowhere to stash it, so I placed it in my bathroom. While this was done without thought, it did generate a genius idea. I weighed myself when I got it. Then ate a big meal and accidentally stepped on the scale when I went to urinize. I discovered that I gained 1.4 pounds from my meal. And I discovered that a scale in the bathroom is the most genius invention ever. It spawned a new plan: first a championship-style weigh-in before a bout with the toilet, followed by a measurement after the release of some excess baggage, coupled with a bit of mathematical calculations and hooha I will be able to report to you how big the dump is in exact terms. Imagine the possibilities.

So deucefans, I promise to try harder to bring you the news of the deuce. And I still have a few stories you need to hear. Mcdonald's, anal probes, ass amoebas and so much more. So thanks to my loyal fans for hanging in there. more is to come.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

I'm back 9-28-08

My fellow diahreaders,

I apologize for my long absence from the deuce blogging world. The day after my last blog entry, I had a week long vacation. Without access to the internet, the deuce diaries suffered. When I returned, I realized that there is more to life than taking dumps and writing about it. So I moved on. Life was happy, my bowels were cleansed effortlessly, and no dump grabbed my attention enough to pull me back to the keyboard to write about it. But something has changed. I have been eating the yogurt everyday since the last entry, but I can almost not stand it anymore. No matter how much I drink, how much I eat, whatever I eat, I have to sit down and eat the same tasting yogurt day in and day out. Now I am starting to realize why people choose align. Also, it seems that the demons in my colon were sizing up the enemy before their recent and successful attack. The revolution in my intestines has not caused any urgent bowel movements. But I have had an aching stomach on numerous occasions, blood has returned to my stool, and nothing is coming easy. If I were George W., I would advocate a troop surge. But i don't want to eat even one yogurt a day let alone multiple yogurts. So with a sore ass, blood in my crap, and an achy stomach, I am at a crossroads. And at this cross-roads, I beg for your forgiveness and hope that you can help me through these dark times.

so without further ado, I the deuce diaries.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Bluddeanous Period Part 4

To recap: After discovering a red bomb exploded in the toilet that changed my world forever like Hiroshima, I went to the doctor to get to the root of the problem. I was demeaned with the task of proving there was blood in stool, which resulted in an uncomfortable and unholy, well I guess quite hole-y, use of popsicle sticks. After storing poop smears in my apartment for several days, I finally collected enough brown stamps to turn them in to the doctor for my prize.

Lo and behold, they discovered that there was actually blood in stool. This came as a huge surprise after my dump looked like Stephen King's Carrie at the prom. And boy did they ever have a prize for me. They scheduled an appointment to meet with Dr. Steve. I just made up his name just now, but it seems fitting for the story. I don't remember the actual doctor's name, just the size of his thumb. My apologies for those of you who weren't interested in this kind of story. But sometimes the truth, and a doctor's appendages, hurt. And this is definitely one of those cases.

So I have an appointment with who we will call Dr. Steve. An old, pedophile looking doctor with thick dark-framed glasses. He wore the white doctor's coat of authority, but looked more like a senile Wal-Mart greeter. He had a grandpa-type uncertainty to his voice when he asked me to get changed into the gown. When he returned, he struggled to read the chart through his thick glasses. Then he told me to turn around and put my hand on the tables. I will never forget his request as he lubed up his gloves, "Please squeeze like you are having a bowel movement." Then with one fell swoop, his cold lubricated finger was in my asshole. It kind of scoped around in there. Then he said to himself, "nope." He fumbled through to place another finger in there. Not more fingers at the same time, I just think he felt like he wanted a different angle. I am convinced this one was his thumb, but I didn't have the courage to look. The last thing I wanted to do was make eye contact with a man who had his hand in butt.

He looked rather confused. I would make a joke that he looked pleased with the events as he smoked his cigarette, but that wouldn't make me look good either. Instead, he really just looked puzzled. He scribbled on the chart and said something like, "well, I didn't see anything." That could either have been because he looked half-blind, because his exploration wasn't exactly a visual inspection, or because there really isn't much to see in the naked anus with a naked eye.

As I was advanced to the next step, I learned that like the popsicle stick search for proof of blood, this anal violation was not necessary. Ideally I would have skipped to step four of this awful experience (not that step four gets any better). But instead, I had one more experience to go through before the Bluddeanous Period would be complete.

To be continued...

Sunday, August 24, 2008


Tropic Thunder is the theme of the week. I had more bellows from below today. I am on a personal hot streak. I would be the Michael Phelps in the Olympic sport of non-diarrheal deucing. Today was another 3-bagger. Amazing! That's 10 in three days, and I doubt I am finished. It started off normal enough. The usual cereal for breakfast, followed by a firm if not hard deuce. Then came more cake, of course. I had the leftover taco salad for lunch. Then I went to an acquaintance's house for dinner and the dump machine fired up again. This was not an ideal deuce situation because there is no sound proofing between rooms and the dinner table was a mere inches from the bathroom. That's city living for you. I had a big hard log that needed to come out just before dinner, and a few nuggets that begged for freedom after dinner.

Dinner was corn, steak, and salad. Finished off with raspberry sorbet and brown sugar homemade ice cream. And obviously, I need to get back into the peanut butter paradise cake. I am addicted. I would think I would gain five pounds from all this food gluttony, but I appear to be crapping it all out.

Stress: I drove the car today just before I deuced at the acquaintance's house.

Dietary supplements: the usual, minus the methane stuff.

Did I mention that I love this cake? God bless cold stone creamery.

Saturday, August 23, 2008


The morning started off right. I had to do some fantasy football drafting. Before I settled into the war room, I shed all of the alcohol, cookies and pizza from the night before. It was quick, it was quiet, and it was painless. But boy, was it extravagant. I thought that I wouldn't be able to crap again for days. But no. I was wrong. Another deuce was in store for me. I was about to make my draft pick (a reach for Calvin Johnson WR in round 3, for those who care), when an intended fart revealed a secret: there was more dump to give. So I urgently headed to the bathroom and shed some more weight. There wasn't a lot of girth to this excrement. It almost diarrheal, but not quite. It kind of burned, and was not pleasant. But I survived. I was left hoping that the day would not be another three deuce extravaganza like yesterday. But one never knows what is lurking in the bowels. I miraculously avoided a three-deuce stretching into four deuce territory. Simply amazing. Shortly after I summarized my first two deuces in this very diary, I went to go shower. I felt the presence of more brown cream in my anus. I decided to relieve myself of this substance. I only dispensed two earthworm shape & size crap strips, but boy did it smell. The stink per square inch was off the charts. It even made me grossed out and I created it. I had to spray cologne before I got in the shower just to withstand the gag reflex.

Later in the day I went to see Tropic Thunder. Hilarious movie. Definitely a summer must-see. Near the end of the two hour film, I felt some tropic thunder myself. I required two pepto bismol to stay in the movie. I survived the film to see the climactic and laugh-out-loud ending. I then made a deposit to the local crap bank and felt much better.

Now let's get to the business of what created this marathon day of deuce.

Brunch: egg, ham, cheese, cream cheese on wheat english muffin
After brunch: peanut-butter paradise cake from Cold Stone Creamery. Chocolate cake, chocolate icing, chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirls and peanut butter cups. Heaven!
Dinner: Fatburger!!!! The greatest burgers in the world. I say burgers plural because I had one and a half cheeseburgers with fried egg. Yum. But this isn't the cause of today's deuces because I had the four deuce drops before I even began dinner. Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
After dinner: More cake!
Then celebrated with champagne and strawberries. Finished a whole bottle and felt quite a bit tipsy.

Dannon activia got lost within the whole celebration day. I popped an align before I went to bed.


Breakfast: cheerios with lactose free milk
Lunch: I was talked into going to an Indian/Mediterranean restaurant. I got felafel, but I think they spiced it with a little curry. I also had to eat a few bites of someone's butter curry chicken. The result was not catastrophic, but not great either. I'll get to that in a moment.
Before Dinner: Dannon Activia Yogurt and a chocolate chip cookie.
Dinner: homemade pizza on wheat dough (from Trader Joe's). Topped with sliced tomato, mushroms, basil, artichoke hearts, feta cheese (not expired this time) and pine nuts. It was delicious.

The evening involved seven coronas, a few tortilla chips with tostitos nacho cheese in a jar and three chocolate chip cookies.

Exercise: 20 minutes aerobic and weightlifting.

The Deuce Story: This was like a soap opera. Each plot was interconnected and ongoing. I had a small but seemingly complete dump before exercising and after breakfast. Then, the deuce story continued with a bowl filler after the work-out. The deuce drama made a reappearance after lunch, but the story was never told to the bowl. Instead my stomach felt the subtle pangs of a deuce in training, not ready to be released into the wild. On my way home from work, I was able to visualize the release of the goo that was inhabiting the passage way of the lower intestine just short of the colon. I felt the presence within me and felt I needed to share it with the world. But I had other things to do. So my friend lingered there, never becoming impatient, but just letting me know if its presence. Finally, just before dinner, I had an opportunity to set it free. I was surprised at how large it had grown, given that I had just birthed several pounds in the morning. But the release was not as satisfying as I thought. It wasn't separation anxiety like a parent feels before dropping their kids off at college. It was a feeling of incompletenes. As if I wasn't quite through with the task at hand. I took a cab out to a friend's house to consume the aforementioned seven coronas. In this cab I felt rumbles in my stomach and was convinced that I would be forced to go straight for the friend's Le Deucery. But the beer settled my stomach, and the deuce was not to be heard from again. Until the next morning.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

8-18-08 through 8-20-08

I have been bad at keeping up on the deuce bloggin'. I am sorry to disappoint my loyal fans. Each day since I last wrote involved the same breakfast, the same lunch, but different dinners.

breakfast: cheerios with lactaid
lunch: almonds and a turkey sandwich

dinners in order: Chicken stuffed with ricotta cheese and covered with tomato sauce. Disgusting chicken teriyaki with white rice and lettuce topped with dressing that tasted like black licorice rubbed in someone's butt crack from a restaurant that smelled like rotting garbage. Not the best restaurant choice. Today's dinner was homemade taco night. Same as usual. Delicious!

The deuce stories. 8-18-08: I had a mildly large deuce before I exercised. But then I had an encore performance that would make an audience cry. Not that there was an audience, but this one was powerful. It was smooth like Michael J. Teen Wolf of course, I am not trying to be ironic. If you are too young to know Teen Wolf, rent it. The first one, of course. Jason Bateman is hilarious (not just because his last name is about masturbation), but Teen Wolf Too is not exactly a classic. But car surfing in Teen Wolf? Genius. Seriously go take a dump and then rent it.

8-19-08 and 8-20-08: the same deuce story. After breakfast, two logs that would make a lumberjack salivate were expunged from my system. It was like Groundhogs day when I looked in the bowl on the 20th. I am glad my radio alarm didn't play "I got you babe" or else I would have gotten scared.

Dietary supplements: I have been trying a weird pill, in addition to my routine. methyl sulfonyl methane. I don't know if it is a good idea, but I have a weird nail injury and someone recommended this may help. If you have heard of it, let me know what you think, please.

Activia Experiment: I took a big risk. I had cookies late at night and didn't feel like having yogurt on the 19th. So instead, I popped an Align GI pill before I went to bed. The other nights I took my dannon activia. I didn't have any ill effects of the switch.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Bluddeanous Part 3

WARNING, this post is not intended for those who are easily queasy. In case you have not been following the details of the Deuce Era or its Bluddeanous Period, let me catch you up to speed. I had been having plenty of poop problems, but I hadn't realized there was something abnormally wrong with me until my bowels exploded to form a sea of red around the brown mound in the bowl. This warning sign was literally bright enough for me to take heed.

So I headed to the doctor. This was my first mistake. As I explained to the doctor the discovery of blood in the toilet, he became visibly worried. He did what no doctor should do. He would make concerned faces and interject with statements like "that's not good." He then became doctorly and explained the things that it could be. It could be colon cancer, colon polyps, a peptic ulcer, Crohn's disease or other serious issues. Of course he concluded by telling me that I shouldn't worry. Right. The first step was to make sure that I did in fact have blood in the stool. Apparently a bowl full of red isn't good enough. So I was put through the completely degrading, uncomfortable, and clearly unnecessary task of getting laboratory-certified proof that my rectum was bleeding. This was the first in a series of unnecessary and humiliating circumstances that a little blood in the anus caused.

I was sent to the lab where I was given further instructions. I was given a brown paper bag. No problem. I was given a piece of paper. Everything still seems okay. I was given several 6 inch popsicle sticks. A little weird. Then came the instructions. I needed to collect three samples....of my dump. Not cool, but it got worse. The samples couldn't be from the same dump. The samples couldn't be from the beginning of the dump or the end of the dump. I was to collect them with the popsicle sticks and smear them on the piece of paper. I was to write the date of specimen collection next to each smear. And I was to save the poop smeared paper until I had collected all three. Oh yeah, and I couldn't collect the sample after it had touched the bowl.

So here I am doing a circus act in the bathroom. My craps had to be lengthy enough to have something to catch between the first and last squirt. It had to be soft enough to leave a deposit on the popsicle stick. And I had to aim carefully to get it on the stick with no splashback or dispersion onto my hands or the toilet seat. So imagine, if you a will, a poor Deuces Wild who had already known there was blood in his stool, doing a squat above the toilet with sticks in hand, trying to administer the excrement at the appropriate time and stabbing at them like Ralph Macchio with chop sticks. The worst thing was that a few deuces failed to produce a consistency that could be grabbed with the popsicle sticks in mid air. With two down and a paper smeared with brown, smelly crud, the third catch proved elusive. I broke down and had to violate one of the doctor's orders. I was either going to get a sample from the bowl or it was not going to be a specimen from the middle of one of my sessions. Having a roommate at the time, I didn't want to get a weird diagnosis by scraping the tainted dung. So I went for the remnants. I failed to catch a hearty deuce in midair. In haste, I did what no man should have to do. Before I wiped with toilet paper, I used the end of the popsicle stick to extract some "hanging chads" surrounding my anus. Triumphantly, I smeared them on the paper, wrote down the date and brought my work back to the lab. Now it was time to wait for them to tell me what I already knew.

One would think that this would be the lowest of the low. The darkest depths of despair that could ever be reached in a Bluddeanous Period. But no. It got worse. Not much worse. That wouldn't be possible. But worse it got indeed.

To be continued.....

8-14 to 8-17

Well folks, I took the wrong time to take a deuce diary hiatus. There were some bowel issues that I was just too busy to write about. So I'll do my best to create the knowledge from my fuzzy memory.

Probably had the regular breakfast.
Lunch: a delicious sandwich! Artichoke hearts with curry, curry mixed with mayo, turkey and gouda cheese on wheat bread. Yummy.
Dinner: Turkey burger with guacamole, low fat mayo, potentially expired feta cheese (cooked with the burger on the grill) and lettucce
After dinner: yogurt.
Stress: none. It was a beautiful day. Sat out on the balcony and relaxed with some beers. 4 beers to be exact. A Kolsch-style beer if that helps the sleuths out there.

The deuce story: a non-descript deuce that has eluded my memory.

Breakfast: barbara's oats cereal
Lunch: Turkey sandwich with lettuce, low-fat mayo, provolone cheese and guacamole.
Dinner: chicken stuffed with olives and feta cheese (not the expired kind). Pasta salad on the side.
After dinner: Dannon activia with fresh berries.

Stress: none

The deuce story: Now this deuce was memorable. Whether before breakfast or shortly after, I remember unleashing a fury upon the toilet. A massive deuce of perfect consistency was gently evacuated from my intestines. It was easy, although it left a horrible odor that persisted for nearly a half hour. I figured all was right with the world. No ill-effects of the curry or the potentially expired feta cheese. But that would not be the case. I decided to leave work early because it was a beautiful day. I was heading home when I felt as if my colon were a cannon that just got loaded. Out of nowhere, and without pain or warning, I came to the conclusion that I had a bomb in the hatch that needed to be released. There wasn't extreme urgency accompanying this feeling, but I would not dawdle on my way home.

When I did get home to give birth to this new child of mine, I went straight for my library. There I read the latest issue of People magazine and felt my anus get scorched by the curry concoction made in my stomach. This was not a comfortable experience.

breakfast: the usual
lunch: leftover turkey burger with reduced fat cream cheese, sprouts and guacamole.
dinner: at a football game, I chowed down some disgustingly dried out chicken fingers, french fries, a bbq pork sandwich and more french fries, and 5 bud light beers.

Stress: none
Exercise: 25 minutes aerobic after breakfast
The Deuce story: I remember feeling slightly uncomfortable, as if the deuce effects continued, but unfortunately I don't remember the specifics. I think I dropped it like its hot after exercising and it wasn't a comfortable spread. But again, the details of the day are vague.

Breakfast: wheat english muffin with american cheese, turkey bacon, and egg
Lunch: black beans with pork and rice.
Dinner: Grilled Portobello mushroom on wheat bread with reduced fat cream cheese, sprouts, and blue cheese. Leftover pasta salad on the side.

The deuce story: A big one. It came out smooth and easy. It also filled the bowl. But I finished this one with a little more discomfort than I began. It seemed smooth and easy. However, soon after, it felt as if a pole had been shoved up my butt. I don't know what that actually feels like, but this is how I would imagine that to feel. I had a little trouble walking or sitting. As the day progressed, though, I have returned back to normal. So that is good news.

Thursday, August 14, 2008


So, I have to admit, I am an idiot. I threw out one milk, but I had two jugs. The second one also has a September expiration date. I believed that this one also smelled spoiled, but I was convinced otherwise by someone else who smelled it. So I had a bowl of barbara's oats cereal with the questionable milk. Bad idea.

breakfast: two bowls of barbara's oats with questionable lactose free milk.
Lunch: Leftover stirfried vegetables
Dinner: Chicken; ginger flavored cooked carrots; some sort of salad with avacodo, corn, black beans, and jacima; vanilla ice cream with blueberries; and a cooked, spiced nectarine.
After dinner: Dannon Activia Yogurt

Stress: I drove the car today.
Dietary supplements: None
Exercise: 10 minutes aerobic and sit-ups

The deuce story: oh boy. The day started off with a bang. I had breakfast and then dispensed a quite comfortable, but bowl filling deuce. I was lighter on my feet and I though the day was going to be great. Then at 3:50pm, I felt some rumbles in my stomach. I let off some paint-peeling farts. Then I decided I should try going to the bathroom. When I went to the bathroom at 4:15, I sat down with ass-raping diarrhea. I couldn't get off the toilet for 15 minutes. Squirt, pause, squirt, cramps, pause, squirt. Argh! It was never ending. Then an hour later, I also fired off a few wet shots. Completing the deuce, I then had to drive in traffic. This is a known trigger! Miraculously, I survived a few uncomfortable moments in the car without incident. The three pills of pepto bismol had to help. After learning that I crap out lunch carrots the morning after, I think the diarrhea was either caused by the morning's bowl of cereal with potentially spoiled milk, or the day before's mushroom tetrazini made with spoiled milk. Any guesses?


Breakfast: started with a bowl of barbara's oats cereal with milk. But the milk tasted spoiled so I threw it all out and just had the barbara's oats dry. The expiration date was September 17th, so it made no sense.
Lunch: Turkey sandwich, farley's fruit snacks, almonds, and carrots
Dinner: Mushroom tetrazini made with the milk that I believed to be spoiled.
After dinner: Dannon Activia

Dietary supplements: the usual.
Exercise: 30 minute aerobic and weights
stress: i was a little concerned that the "spoiled milk" would cause trouble on the bus.

The deuce story: My stomach was jumping a bit on the bus, but no real problems. A small deuce was dropped before departing for work and after exercise.

Monday, August 11, 2008


Breakfast: cheerios
Lunch: the leftover indian food of butter chicken and rice.
After lunch snack: carrots and a banana
Dinner: the last of the ribs pulled off the bone and served on wheat bread.
After dinner: dannon activia with fresh rasberries

Exercise: 30 minutes aerobic before breakfast
Stress: a little deuce related stress that I'll explain in a moment
Dietary supplements: C, E, multivitamin and salmon oil pills

This is day 27 of the Dannon Activia Experiment. So far, I have the same general feeling that I had when I first started Align GI. My world has definitely improved. The only question is whether align gi had the same positive effect and then tailed off or if the improvement from constant deuce-asters to not-so-great was perceived the same way as the end of align experience to the beginning of the activia experiment. Not sure if that made sense, but the bottom line is, I feel better than I could ever remember, I have a bad memory, and that is why the deuce diaries got see if Dannon can save me.

The deuce story: I was in a rush to get to work so I couldn't wait for the deuce to come out before leaving. As soon as I left the door, I got nervous that the absence of my morning ritual would ruin my day. My stomach got a little cramped and uncomfortable with the thought of having to run off the bus to crap in the woods. But no crap happened. When I got to work, the deuce anxiety subsided and so did the deuce feeling. I was able to survive until after lunch before I decided to deposit two hard plops into the work bathroom. I am having a few cramps in the evening, but nothing unbearable.

Sunday, August 10, 2008


Breakfast: two bowls of cheerios with bananas
Lunch: Leftovers from yesterday's all-American meal! complete with the cake too. Heaven!
Dinner: two more ribs as an appetizer and stir-fried vegetables in a spicy peanut sauce
after dinner: dannon activia.

Exercise: none. I have been lazy.
Stress: none. I didn't even leave the home.
Dietary supplements: vitamin C, E, multivitamin and salmon pills

Dannon Activia Experiment continues.

The deuce story: I dropped a non-descript crap this morning after breakfast today. No fireworks from the influx of dairy.

Saturday, August 9, 2008


So I thought the Indian food was eaten without incident. But, I was clearly wrong. Last night as I went to bed I felt the red hot curry lava scorching the intestine as it flowed through my bowels, destroying everything in its path. An occasional gas explosion was followed by a burning movement of the curry chicken. I was awakened several times with screams for help from my innards. But there was nothing I could do. The curry wasn't ready to come out, it just wanted to torture me. Read on to see the shocking conclusion of the Indian food event.

Brunch: Homemade egg muffin. Cheese, fat-free cream cheese, turkey bacon and scrambled egg on wheat english muffin.
Dinner: An awesome dinner! Ribs, mac& cheese, 7-layer salad and oreo ice-cream cake for dessert. Let's see if I pay for that cake tomorrow.
Beer: 3 or 4 coronas with lime
midnight snack: Dannon Activia yogurt

Exercise: none
Dietary supplements: none
stress: the car issues that I'll discuss in a moment

The deuce stories: When I woke up this late morning (around 11), the pain of the curry had subsided. I felt a bit of a load ready to come out and I obliged at my earliest convenience. Surprisingly, there was no burning sensation or anything. Just a normal, good consistency deuce. I thought the day would go just find and I would survive the Indian food. But then I made a mistake. I drove. I guess the theory that driving makes me subconsciously nervous and consciously deucy has some merit. I had just an 8 minute car ride to the grocery store. Within the second minute, I felt the stomach problems. I played relaxing classical music. I counted backwards from 100, but there was nothing I could do to keep my mind off of it. I got to the grocery store and purchased what I needed. There was another stop I was going to make on my way home, but the feeling of the deuce made me rethink the plan. Instead I headed home, dropped off the groceries and dropped off a load. Now I would think that if it were entirely mental, my deuce may have been 'rrheal or small. But this was a legitimate dump. It was a semi-bowl filler. And it all came out in one fell swoop. So I don't know if it was the indian food, the car ride, or just a deuce that needed to come out. But again, I found myself changing my life because of the dump. Not cool. The good news is, the deuce was an accomplishment and I am probably a few pounds lighter.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Deuce Comments

The deuce diaries has become a phenomenon. Like a wet diarrhea, it has spread out, not just over a toilet bowl, but the world! That may be an exaggeration, but Deuce fans from 30 countries have tuned in to see the power of excrement. And this has created a problem. The fans of the Diaries have a right to be heard, yet blogspot hides their comments from everyone but the most astute and curious deuce diarrheader. So in this entry, I would like to highlight some of the comments that have made my day.

1. "J-dub" shared a personal deuce-aster story that rivals the El Jardin fiasco. I'll expand the brief comment into a full-fledge story. It was a cold winter night. Maybe not a cold winter night, but a night nonetheless. Unless J-dub is an alcoholic and the bar events occurred during the day. But either way, it was a experience out in a bar. Dressed to the nines, J-dub had an undershirt for sweat and odor protection, underneath his stylin black button-up shirt. With his hair gelled, J-dub was out on the prowl with one mission in mind: bring home a lucky (or unlucky) lady for a night of coital interaction. Having moderate success talking to the ladies, but not extreme success, J-dub had a frightful moment. Whether he accepted it or not, there was a beast inside his bowels that wanted to be let loose. Rather than battle it out and take the risk that this beast would soil his pants and his evening, J-dub did what many a man has regrettably done. He hurried to the den of disgustingness, the bar bathroom, to let loose the deuce. Whether he was too involved in his mission of getting skranky or he was desperately losing his battle to cage the bowel beast, he did not pay attention to one important detail...There was no toilet paper in the bathroom. So I have learned, that the Deuces Wild is not the only person to come across such a nightmare. But determined not to let a crap ruin his night, he came up with a plan. Did he use his underwear and then go commando? No. Did he take "matters" into his own hands? No. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He ripped off the sleeve of his oh-so-precious Calvin Klein white undershirt and cleaned his area. It was a moist deuce, so his work was not yet complete. He then ripped off the other sleeve and completed the business (that last part is an extrapolation from the brief comment). Now, with a sleeveless undershirt, he we unrolled his sleeves of his fancy overshirt and got back to the dance floor to continue on with his mission. And some lucky gal that evening must be thankful for a little ingenuity on J-dub's part that prevented a smell from lingering over their tryst.

2. From anonymous poster: "I understand what its like to have something in your body that you can't control. I can't help but pass gas when I'm nervous. I enjoy reading your blog it brightens my day, really. Hope you have a great day." To this poster, I say thank you. This is what keeps me going. Sharing the highs and the lows of this uncontrollable demon in my body. We are not alone.

3. From an anonymous e.mail, I have discovered a fan. Apparently, someone from stumbled across the Deuce Diaries and made a joke about it on their site's story about baseball injuries. I don't support all that bofads has to offer, but I like the reference. Whoever you are and however you found me, keep it up.

4. clphillips in reading about the bar bouncer who guarded my deuce, had a clever comment. A clever play on the word chaperon, he proclaimed the bouncer was my craperon. A great play on words from a great diarrheader.

5. Having to admit I am a little vain, I googled "the deuce diaries" to see what would come up. I have finally made it to the top! Yee-haw. The world likes to hear about dumps. But the weirdest find was that someone somehow correlated the discovery of the deuce diaries to the discovery that John Edwards cheated on his cancer-fighting wife with a really ugly woman Rielle Hunter.
I am honored that coming across the deuce diaries can have such a profound impact on someone's life.

So I encourage all of you to keep the comments coming. You too can have your name and story in lights.

Like the first deuce after a buffet, I have a lot more crap coming. You've still yet to hear about the popsicle sticks and the doctor's "fix" to the Bluddeanous Period. We have yet to get to the best story ever told: Mickey D's. And there are plenty more deuceasters in between. So buckle your seatbelts and prepare to enjoy the ride. And share the Diaries with your friends, post the link on your chatrooms, make jokes about it on your website. Whatever you have to do to make sure that the world knows it is okay to have deuce drama.


Today is the triple 8s. I bet a lot of people are getting married. And the Beijing Olympics are about to get underway. I care a lot less about the Olympics since they switched to an every two year format (alternating between Winter and Summer). When it was every four years, it was something special. I think NBC's lame coverage of the games also weakens the excitement for me. CBS always did a better job. But you are reading this blog to find out my opinion on sports, are you? You are here to read about the deuce.

Breakfast: two bowls of cheerios with lactose free milk
Lunch: Butter chicken from an Indian restaurant with basmati rice and naan (indian flatbread). It was delicious. And it will put my theory to the test.
Mid-day snack: chocolate granola bar
Dinner: I cooked a nasty meal. It was supposed to be cheesy mushroom pasta. But it was just gross. Fat-free cream cheese, fat free sour cream, fat free lactose free milk, one kraft american single, hot sauce and BBQ sauce. The fat-free cream cheese ruined it. Didn't taste good and it was too thick of a consistency. Perhaps more milk, more cheese or less fat free cream cheese next time.
After dinner: parmesan goldfish crackers.

Dannon Activia experiment continues. I am starting to lose track. I'll have to go back through the diaries at some point to give an updated count.

Exercise: None

Dietary Supplements: salmon pills, multi-vitamin, vitamin C and Vitamin E.

The duece story: I waited longer to start my day to make sure I got the deuce out. It was a normal deuce if not a bit on the small side. After the Indian food, I remembered that it makes me crap. That got my stomach jumping a touch. I don't know if it was the indian food or my nerves about the indian food that got it going. But no deuce followed. We'll see how it burns tomorrow.


The carrots made a reappearance this morning, but were more discrete this time. So it wasn't a one time occurrence. Other than that the day was normal.

Breakfast: cereal.
Lunch: chicken teriyaki with brown rice
Dinner: chopped salad (green onions, turkey bacon, egg, noodles, blue cheese, chicken, tomato, avocado and low fat honey mustard dressing)
after dinner: dannon activia with granola.

Dietary supplements: salmon pills, multi-vitamin, vitamin E and vitamin C

Exercise: 30 minutes aerobic after the dump.

The deuce story: The long compact log was released in the morning. As I said, there was carroty goodness in there. Then I had to make another deposit after lunch. I was a bit gassy at night, but nothing that would evacuate a room.

Thursday, August 7, 2008


I simultaneously learned two things this morning:
1. I digest food in less than 24 hours
2. Like corn, carrots can find their way into a dump.

After my standard breakfast of cheerios, I had stomach cramps. I decided to start off with a nice deuce. The first log was long, thick and smooth. Then came the less condensed crap. I got rid of quite a bit. When I checked to see what I had done, I noticed lots of orange carrot bits tucked into the lumps and floating in the water. I had never seen anything like it before. Is that normal, or is there something wrong with me?

Knowing that I digest food in less than 24 hours may help discover what triggers the deuceasters. Or it may just be an odd fact that noone wanted to know. Either way, let's get deucin':

breakfast: cheerios
lunch: leftover turkey taco meat with rice, beans, fat-free sour cream, and a bit of cheese. Carrots and a banana added to the healthiness of the lunch.
dinner: mushroom stuffed ravioli, beef sliders, french cheese on bread, walnuts, and two grapes.

After dinner: 3 glasses of red wine
Dannon Activia was less than appetizing after the wine.

exercise: 35 minutes aerobic after the dump.
stress: none

Dietary supplements: none.

The deuce story: The carrot infused dump in the morning set me straight for the day.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008


Breakfast: two bowls of cheerios with lactose free milk
lunch: carrots and turkey sandwich with turkey bacon, lettuce and mayo. Chocolate granola bar for snack.
dinner: taco night! fat-free sour cream, quacamole, turkey taco meat, lettuce, tomato, rice with cilantro and refried beans.

Dietary supplements: the usual with vitamin c and E.

Stress: none

Exercise: None

The deuce story: A big one this morning after breakfast (and after stomach cramps).


Well, my little deuce-tectives, we finally have a mystery for you to solve. Yesterday, I felt some rumbles on the way to the airport to pick someone up. It seemed to me that the previous night's alcohol and the car ride were the culprit. Well today, was a problematic day without an obvious cause. Get to work!

Breakfast: cheerios
Lunch: the usual turkey sandwich with the dannon activia yogurt for lunch. Chocolate granola bar as a snack.
Dinner: This certainly didn't help my stomach troubles. It was a baseball game night. so there were 4 summer ale beers and 3 bud lights before during and after a stream of pizza, nachos, pita & hummos. the night ended with a street vendor's sausage with cream cheese (as gross as that sounds for many reasons, it was delicious!)

Stress: A little stress about trying to scalp tickets
Dietary supplements: I honestly don't remember.
Exercise: None

The deuce story. The morning started with a bang. A long painful deuce was dropped after breakfast. Then the stomach was a bit off all day. I had to drop some kids off at the work pool. Then before leaving for the game, I had to expunge two quarter sized nuggets of goodness. Then, on the way to the baseball game, I resorted to Pepto Bismol to save me from the stomach flips. After the trusty PB, I was good to go for the evening. But the day of three deuces and stomach cramps was something I would like to avoid in the future. Any guesses?

Sunday, August 3, 2008


At first, I felt no ill effects from yesterday's evening. A few cramps led to a big dump before the day even started. Then...

Breakfast: two bowls of cheerios
Lunch: Macaroni and cheese
Dinner: Burrito (with sour cream, refried beans, rice, cheese, guacamole, no meat)
After dinner: Dannon Activia

Stress: I was the passenger in a car ride to the airport. I felt nervous about the car-ride for whatever reason. Played classical music to relax the bowels.

Deuce story: The stomach kept flipping in the car, but no deuce emergency. When I got the airport (we were there to pick someone up), I chose to go in and drop my deuce rather than risk a painful, long journey home. In haste, my zipper popped open and broke. I then had to drive back with a guest and my baggage exposed. not cool.

Saturday, August 2, 2008


Brunch: eggs with turkey bacon and a slice of american chese on wheat.
after brunch snack: Dannon Activia Yogurt with granola
Dinner: hamburger with blue cheese and french fries and one chicken finger with bbq sauce
AFter dinner: pear martinis! Very manly and tasty.

Big mistake: after feeling sleepy, I decided to chug a zipfizz beverage. this is a energy drink powder that you add to water. Shortly after, I got on a bus. The semi-nervousness of transit and the caffeinated beverage had my stomach in a bit of lurch. After dinner, I had some explosive gas. But no deuce story, so I guess it wasn't as big of a mistake as I thought it was going to be.

Exercise: 20 minutes aerobics and then weights (after breakfast and deucing)
Stress: none

The deuce story: A nice deuce experience punished the bathroom. Smooth and semi-soft. No problems. Fortunately, the load drop-off occurred before exercising. The stomach discomfort later in the evening was taken care of with some air bombs.

Friday, August 1, 2008


The first of August brought another regular day.
Breakfast: cheerios
Lunch: Chicken Teriyaki with brown rice and a salad.
Afternoon snack: fat-free wheat pretzels and a granola bar
Dinner: a mixture of leftover pasta with a homemade sauce (week-old cottage cheese, cream cheese, Frank's hot sauce, BBQ sauce, Kraft American cheese single, Oatmeal, a touch of shredded cheese, and onions) and chicken. I realized the onions smelled awfully bad after I had put a few in the sauce. So if I fall ill, rotten onions would be a logical guess. I brought the sauce to a boil, so hopefully that killed any of the smell-causing agents.

After dinner: Activia Yogurt with shredded wheat
Dietary supplements: the usual plus a vitamin C because I am feeling a touch under the weather.
Exercise: 30 minutes aerobic and sit-ups before breakfast.
Stress: none

The deuce story: two smooth logs graced the bowl after breakfast.


This was a nondescript day. To be perfectly honest, I am writing it the day after and I have to push my brain to scour the memory banks to bring to you any of the details.

Breakfast: none
Lunch: the usual turkey sandwich (no tomato) with fat-free wheat pretzels, almonds, and two granola bars (I had to make up for skipping breakfast).
dinner: A chicken pasta dish
After dinner snack: Activia Yogurt

Exercise: None
Dietary supplements: the usual

The Deuce Story: Normal deuce in the morning. Some fierce farts at night

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Bluddeanous Part 2

It has been several days now that I have left you in suspense about the Bluddeanous Period. It doesn't take a Shakespeare expert to figure out what the deuce problem may have been, and it doesn't take a degree in Deuceology to know that the punishment didn't fit the crime. I was a younger lad than I am today. It was several years into the Deuce Era, but I had yet to identify these times as such. Every once and a while, for the sake of a story, I have to reveal facts about me and my life that aren't exactly cool. There are certain nuggets of truth about me that are best kept private, but that must be shared for the sake of knowledge, understanding, and a good story. So, I now reveal a peculiar habit that I had at the time.

I consider myself a curious fellow. Someone who can't leave well enough alone unless I have all the facts of a situation. Well, this curiosity made it such that I couldn't drop a deuce without knowing the full effects of my actions. This led me to do what I believe many men would do. After a deuce, I look to the bowel to see what I have accomplished. This is perhaps the most normal part of what I am about to tell you. I will also sometimes peak down to see my progress. Again, this is a bit more on the normal side. What I am convinced is not normal, but what led me toward the Bluddeanous Period, is a little habit known as the wipe watch. If you have a gag reflex, skip down to the next paragraph. When wiping the remnants of a deuce from the depths of my buttocks, curiosity would compel me to examine what lie below on the toilet paper. Rather than depositing it immediately to its proper home, I would take a look to see what kind of art I had made. While brown is the most common, I've had my Picasso moments in a blue period as well as green (after drinking Kool-Aid), yellow, and combinations thereof.

Why did I tell you of such a disgraceful activity? Because this particular period in the deuce era had some warning signs in the wipe watch. Certain colors were included in the anal art that do not belong. The doctors say if you see black in your stool, you should seek help immediately. Not mental help because of you are looking at your stool, but a physician to examine your innards. Black stool generally means you have internal bleeding deep within your intestine. Red in the stool is less worrisome, but still something you are supposed to call your doctor about. Red obviously means blood. And while you may think bleeding is normal (especially if you are constantly ripping out ridiculous dumps like I have), it could be a sign of many different bad things.

So in the days leading up to the dump heard around my world, there were a few warning signs. While the art looked beautiful (I mean what's better to spice up a little brown or green than a splash of beautiful red?), it was not a good sign. A bad sign, though, that I failed to recognize. Then, one day my life came into focus. A day that I clearly learned I had a deuce problem. Like Neo choosing the Red Pill, I could never go back even though I really wished I could. It happened on a normal day. Maybe not a truly normal day, but a somewhat normal day nonetheless. I had drank a lot of beer the night before. I had a large chipotle burrito with corn salsa. The day before, I had a tough deuce to force out. Since that deuce, I had eaten a lot of food. And on this fateful day, I had plenty to release. It wasn't a completely miserable deuce, but it was plentiful and it certainly wasn't pleasant. I can't remember all the the specifics of it, but I know it was a deuce I wish I never had. After surviving the discomfort, I first took a look at the splatter on the toilet paper. This was bizarre. The entire paper was covered in red. Now, I had seen pink, or splashes of red over the brown. But this was just red. A dark scarlet red. Somewhat alarmed, I finished the business and stood to take in a bird's eye view of my accomplishment. And this folks, was no accomplishment. To my dismay, the entire bowl was red. There was a mound of normal deuce in there (with some yellow kernels of corn, of course), but the water looked as if Moses had been there. There were also drops of an even darker red on top of the Mount Dueceai. It was like Moses had in fact been there, but instead of delivering one of God's plagues, he was offering me the eleventh commandment: If thy have rectal dysfunction, thou shalt fix it.

I took this bloody bowl to be my burning bush and listened intently. I immediately called my doctor. And shortly afterward, I regretted it.

To be continued...


The day started off with a deuce...deuce diary entry that is. I had to dot the i's and cross the t's on a few dumping blogs I have yet to post. Thinking and talking about deucing did not have the effect of creating the deuce. The dominating performance yesterday must have cleared out the bowels. But patience paid off. A little breakfast and a little exercise and we were rockin' and rollin'. Of course you'll have to read on to hear about the good news.

Breakfast: Two bowls of shredded wheat with lactose free milk. No blueberries this time because I have finally finished the biggest box of blueberries ever.
Lunch: Same sandwich as yesterday. Also, a half peanut butter sandwich on the wheat bread.
Dinner: Carribean tapas restaurant. Interesting and delicious place! I don't know half of what I was eating. Jerk Chicken (not to be confused with choking chicken), pork ribs, fried plantains, french fries and tamales. Topped off with banana chocolate cake. Yum! and of course enjoyed with two mojitos. Afterward, it was on to see the movie Dark Knight. An enjoyable film, made even more enjoyable by the fact that we watched it in a brew and view. There I enjoyed a Tanqueray and Tonic and at least a half bottle of red wine (syrah for the wine snobs).

Exercise: 30 minutes aerobic after breakfast and before the deuce. I think I burned extra calories by having a full load.

Dannon Activia: Here's one of the problems with the Yogurt as anal regulator trial. Its good with blueberries as an after dinner dessert. It is downright disgusting as drunk food. I am currently writing this blog while trying to digest the wine and the yogurt. Its not going so well. There is a battle, it seems, for the right to stay in my stomach. Hopefully the loser will be sent slowly through my intestines rather than back from whence they came. I do not feel like barfing yogurt tonight. That may come as a surprise to you, but it is a gut feeling that I wouldn't like such an experience. And it would be double punishment, because then I wouldn't have the probiotics to fend off the alcohol-induced violent deuces. And besides, yogurt vomay is one of the worst kinds. I would put the worst throw-ups as: 1. Scotch 2. Hot sauce 3. Yogurt. Seriously, scotch is the worst. It burns far more coming up as it does going down. Back to yogurt... I don't know what it is about it, but I just hate the yogurt squirts where it hurts. Something about the slimy texture. I better stop writing about this subject, because it is lowering my chances of keeping it down.

Dietary supplements: none.
Stress: none. i did drive to and from work. I don't know if its related, but there is a deuce story involved.

The Deuce Story: After waiting patiently, I was given the gift of deuce. It took just a little bit of work to get the ball rolling, and then like the gates of heaven for a saint, my sphincter opened to allow the passage of stool. At first, I thought it was nothing. But when I was done, it was truly something to sing about. Or at least I did sing about it in the subsequent shower. My deuce just filled the bowl/don't know how it all fit through my hole/ but I had a deuce to sing about/just sat down and it all came out/I sat back and let it loose/Now I'm so proud of my big deuce. I don't remember what tune that was sang too. I think it was a Deuces Wild original composition.

Sorry to those of you whose image of me I've just shattered.

In any case, I had a deuce to sing about and my life seemed fulfilled. I drove to work with no gurgles or other deuce issues. In driving home, I was stuck in traffic and had a few farts to release. Knowing I would be drinking tonight, I decided to drop another deuce shortly after I got home. Correlated to the driving? I just don't know. This time, the toilet's haul was nothing to write home about. Just a simple little quarter-sized shot that either had been in storage since the morning or had been placed in the hatch over the course of the day.

--a mildly drunk Deuces Wild


The day started with the shredded wheat breakfast. The cereal quickly inspired an epic deuce. Like the Rolling Stones, my butt was turning out the hits for what seemed like eternity. Effortlessly, my dump softly streamed out like paper out of a copy machine. Not necessarily a deuce to write home about, but a great way to start the day...and this post in the deuce diaries.

breakfast: shredded wheat with blueberries (lactose free milk)
lunch: turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato, turkey bacon and mayo on wheat. Almonds and wheat pretzels.
dinner: cheesy chicken & mushroom pasta casserole
after dinner: Dannon activia with the rest of the blueberries. It was the biggest box of blueberries I have ever seen, taking days to overcome them.

Exercise: 10 minutes aerobic and weights
Stress: none
Dietary supplements: the usual plus vitamin c. I am starting to feel under the weather and want to battle it before it gets the best of me.

Day 14 of the Dannon Activia Experiment. I've passed the two week trial with some success and just a few days of badness. I am going to continue on with this and see the long term effects.

The Deuce Story: You heard it. It was great. I was so much lighter on my feet for exercising after a gentle deuce.

Monday, July 28, 2008


breakfast: shredded wheat cereal with fresh blueberries.
lunch: a mixture of leftover rice/turkey taco meat/reduced fat cheese and fat free sour cream. Then topped off with two chocolate granola bars.
Dinner: the leftover meatloaf mixed into a cheesy sauce (lactose free milk, cheese, hot sauce, mushrooms, flour, sour cream and cream cheese) over pasta

after dinner The dannon Activia experiment continues with fresh blueberries mixed in.

25 minutes of exercise before breakfast.
Dietary supplements: same as usual
Stress: no stress. Was a passenger in a car, but didn't drive.

the deuce story: two tough nuggets were expunged after breakfast. Not an exciting day for die-hard deuce diary devotees.


I quick slider began the day and nothing else unusual. I am starting to narrow it down to either curry sauce or driving as being my main triggers. I would like to cure my driving woes if that truly is a problem. here's what happened today:

stress free day of sitting around the house.
brunch: egg, turkey bacon, american cheese on english muffin
dinner: leftover steak, creamed spinach and au gratin potatoes. a salad with lettuce, tomato, blue cheese, avocado and honey vinagrette dressing.
after dinner: activia and blueberries
after after dinner: shredded wheat cereal

dietary supplements: the usual.
exercise: none

the deuce story. Aside from the morning slider, I was fine. I had a bit of gas in the evening, but I was in the comforts of my home so no problems caused. The paint began to peel on the walls, but no social disruptions.

Sunday, July 27, 2008


Sometimes the deuce diaries needs to report on non-deuce related occurrences. For those of you who like to read about craps 24/7, I apologize for this one-time deviation from the norm. Every once and awhile, something other than pooping happens. I know its hard to believe. Last night was one of those times. It was approximately 1:42...and 32 seconds, when I was getting ready for bed. I heard loud noises. I couldn't quite figure out what they were or where they were coming from. As they got louder and louder, I thought carefully about what they could be. At first, it sounded like someone was in trouble. They got louder and louder. The inner superman in me wanted to come to the rescue. Then, I realized these were not noises of fear, anger, or desperation. These were noises of happiness. Pure jungle noises emanating from outside and through my window. I thought, wow, someone in an apartment nearby is having coitus. Not just any coitus, but loud, crazy, windows-open coitus. But something was strange about these noises. They appeared to be louder than one would expect and not exactly from below or above. So I looked outside, obviously, to see where the coitus was occurring. And sure enough, it was not from downstairs, upstairs, or the side apartments. I look across the parking lot to the building across the way. And there I see movement. Pure, raw, sexual movement. It was dark and far away, but it was clear that the shrill, mating sounds were coming from the two people writhing on a park bench nearby. Disgusted, I did what any person would do. I looked away and headed to the other room. Here I grabbed my binoculars and headed back to the window for a closer look. They had picked the perfect spot, because even with binoculars I couldn't make out their faces or what was going on down below. They were in a shadow, and all I could see was someone bouncing on top of the other. And all I could hear were the pleasure screams of the person on top. Then they leaned the woman against the railing (where she had a nice water view) and proceeded to engage in more rawer coitus. She then collapsed in a moment of joy, he put on some clothes and they headed out. But man, they had some guts to coitalate right there in a park. Not just any park. But a park that was overlooked by several dozen apartments and a garage (a parking garage which served as an echo chamber to amplify her screams to double or triple the actual volume). And now back to deucing. I realized, that even if I had a willing accomplice, my bowels would never allow me to engage in such wild and illegal behavior because the associated nervousness would indeuce a horrific deuce. Which brings me to my daily deuce diary.

I am now convinced that indian food is really bad. Not just bad, but really, really bad. I was ready to head out on the road to go to Costco, when I realized that I should probably lighten my load beforehand. I struggled to drop off the baggage, but when I broke through, I had plenty of baggage to release. Then when I was driving (yes, maybe the car-as-a-trigger theory has merit), I felt quite uncomfortable as if I might deuce at any moment. Not a good feeling. I made it to Costco, and saved a pretty penny. I again felt the deuce on the way back. This time, it was for real. I had to drop some kids off at the pool before I continued the day. To be honest, I thought more food came out than ever came in. The bowl was filled several times over in the last few days. Then, it was a celebration evening. Ruth's Chris steakhouse. I had a salad, a delicious filet mignon, some au gratin potatoes, creamed spinach, red wine and delicious chocolate cake. Before the cake came, my stomach was flipping out. I went to drop a deuce, but only had some smoke bombs to release. But these were smoke bombs that could clear you sinuses in a heart beat. Nothing to mess with. So my stomach hurt like hell, but I powered through for another couple of drinks. It seemed like something crawled in my ass and died, but no more deuce was dispensed. Just intestinal misery. So now on to my meals:

breakfast: shredded wheat with blueberries
lunch: taco leftovers (Beans, turkey taco meat, white rice, whole wheat soft shells)
Dannon activia for snack
dinner: ruth chris steak and such as described above.

exercise: none
dietary supplements: none

Day something of the aciivia experiment (too many drinks to calculate at this hour)

Deuce story: you heard it! I don't know if it is the indian food or the shredded wheat instead of cheerios that is making me deuce like crazy and have stomach pains. Maybe you can guess and leave a comment to cure me.

peace!---Deuces Wild

Saturday, July 26, 2008

7-25-08 (Punishment Found)

Ask and you shall receive. A mere hour after writing that my deucing was normal yesterday, something funny happened. At first, all was quiet on the western front. Then the stomach felt a bit heavy. Then what happens to any normal human being happened to me. I felt that I had more in my intestine than I desired, so I decided to share some with the toilet. The first deuce was normal, if not better than normal. About a pound of excrement slid out and I felt a bit lighter on my feet. Another day at the office and time to get back to the tv. Then 20 minutes later, I still felt a bit heavy. This time, I filled the bowl. Still, not too out of the ordinary. But a half hour later another deuce hit. Nothing urgent, but something to rid my body of. This must have been where the spicy indian food was hidden in my bowels. It has been awhile since I realized that hot pepper sauce burns as much when it comes out as when it goes in. Three deuces in an hour to tally four for the day is far from normal.

You may be able to guess how today began as well...just as the other one had ended. This deuce took a little longer to work out, but I was heading to the eye doctor's office and didn't want to have to spill my guts during the dilation. I had to make sure the evacuation would be complete. This parts a little gross. I would stop reading if you here if you just like reading about diarrhea. In working it out, something must have gone wrong. The first deuce to pierce the anus was a little sharp and must have pierced something else. When I inspected the bowl, which I tend to do from time to time, there was a dash of red. You may think that would be cause for alarm. And it is for most people. If you have blood in your stool, go to your doctor immediately. But I had gone through the Bluddeanous Period. And as you will learn, going to a doctor may be prudent but it sure is not fun. But of course, YOU should go if you have a problem. I all ready learned what my problem is. And I'd rather live with that problem, than have the solution.

Breakfast: Shredded wheat with fresh blueberries
Lunch: turkey, artichoke, cheese and curry relish sandwich with salad
Dinner: homemade yogurt, curry sauce with chicken.

Day 10 of the Dannon Activia Experiment

Exercise: weights
Dietary supplements: the usual.

Deuce story: you heard it. My stomach also started flipping after lunch at the doc's office, but no other deuce

Thursday, July 24, 2008

7-24-08 (Search for Punishment)

I have to admit something quite bizarre about the deuce diaries. When I set forth to write these stories, I had just finished a string of bad issues. In the weekend before the first entry, I had to switch from driving at a stop sign so I could close my eyes in an effort to withhold the deuce. I then proceeded to race into a gas station with my zipper down (for quicker release) and headed for a disgusting bathroom. With no time to clean the seat and cover it with toilet paper (a silly ritual that I will criticize later), I had to do the hidden tiger, crouching dragon and pray that I didn't make a mess of the holy temple of deuce (or my pants for that matter). In another instance that weekend, I had just began a simple 20 minute drive when I had to take a detour to find a Deucery. I also had to crap in the nasty bathroom of an ice cream parlor and scarfed down 8 pepto bismol to avoid making a mess on a scenic bus ride. So after five deuces in three days, with two of them severely urgent, I clearly wasn't doing so well.
This is the point at which I decided to begin the Deuce Diaries. The only thing better than a good dump is a good dumping story. And believe me, I have lots of them. So I figured that I would have many more. But then something funny happened. This Dannon Activia really started working. And to be honest, I am getting quite bored of writing the same thing: "cheerios, lunch, exercise, normal deuce." And here is where it gets bizarre. I have come to miss the excitement and punishment that comes along with not knowing whether or not the next dump will be in a toilet. And so today, I took some real risks:
Breakfast: the usual cheerios
Lunch: Spicy Thai Food
Dinner: Indian food.
Dessert: Rice pudding with sweet milk. I know milk almost never fails to work its way through my system in ways that are considered unnatural. Somehow, I couldn't resist the free rice pudding that was put before me. Part of me knew the torture that I would endure as a result. And part of me wanted that torture so that I could share it with my readers.

After dinner snack: Dannon Activia with fresh blueberries

Exercise: 25 minutes aerobic and sit-ups before breakfast
Dietary supplements: same as always.

Day 9 of the Dannon Activia Experiment

The deuce story: Here's where it gets sad. A standard dump in the morning. And then after all of the indian food, spicy thai and sweetened milk in the rice pudding.....NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. Now, the spicy thai at lunch gave me a few rumbles, but nothing materialized and the discomfort was slight. I even got in a car after the milk and indian food, yet nothing happened at all. I love the dannon activia, but I feel like it has taken something from me. Something less than special, but that has been a part of me for many moons. That's right, I almost miss the deuce-drama. We'll see if this truly is the end of the Deuce-Era or just a brief interlude.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008


Breakfast: cheerios
Lunch: Thai food with brown rice
Dinner: week old pungent french cheeses. egg, american cheese and turkey bacon on wheat. Activia yogurt with fresh blueberries.

no exercise. no stress.

Day 8 of the Activia Experiment

The Deuce story: a normal although hard dump. Also noteworthy, I was in a car again and no problems. This diary is going would be getting rather boring if there weren't two epic stories coming your way and a few entertaining sideshows.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


They say slow and steady wins the race, well today slow and steady filled the bowl. It started off a little weak. But with a little patience and a little effort, the hits kept coming. By the end, I had even surprised myself with how much was released. Moving on, I should tell you what I ate...

Breakfast: Bowl of cheerios.
Lunch: the leftover medley consisted of mac & cheese and the still-leftover stir fried veggies with spicy peanut sauce. Finished off with a peanut butter granola bar.
Dinner: turkey and sausage meatloaf and creamed spinach.

Exercise: 15 minutes aerobic and then weights (before breakfast)

Day 7 of the Dannon Activia experiment!

Someone close to me suggested that there is something psychological that I have with cars that makes me deuce. Well today, I drove with no deuce issues whatsoever. We'll keep an eye on it to see if that theory can be disproved.

The deuce story: I felt a little extra weight during the workout, but I lightened the load after breakfast.

Monday, July 21, 2008

The Bluddeanous Period Part 1

There are certain problems that a solution is far worse than the problem itself. This is well beyond that. I can only share this story, because I survived. With little dignity intact, but survived nonetheless. Now don't worry. This isn't going to be a scary, edge of your seat thriller including near-death experiences. Just a series of events that changed the way I look at doctors, Popsicle sticks and corn. But before I get to all the details, I should point out that this is a truthful tale that cannot fit in a single blog entry. So sit back and be prepared to learn about the Bluddeanous Period of the Deuce Era.
To be honest, I didn't really realize that I wasn't normal during the Mesopantsazoic Period. Now you might ask a reasonable question: "How many times do you have to nearly crap your pants before you know something's wrong?" Sadly, I can't answer that question. That urgent run to the deucer occurred more times than I could remember. I am more Watson that Sherlock Holmes. I was just too naive to piece it all together. This is a period long before The Deuce Diaries. A time when I was still embarrassed of the fact that I took dumps, let alone watery squirts in random places in front of random people. I could tell no one. And in turn, no one told me that most people go to the bathroom in clean toilets with toilet paper. Then, the dawn of the Bluddeanous Period changed my world forever. Like finding out the lead singer of Wham! was gay, the discovery was so obvious I felt like a Corky for not realizing it. And of course, it all started with a single dump.

To be continued...


Breakfast: Bowl of Cheerios with lactose-free milk
Lunch: leftover Stir-fry with the homemade spicy peanut sauce. A peanut-butter sandwich on 9-grain whole wheat bread. A chocolate granola bar
Dinner: Taco salad night!! Turkey taco meat, guacamole, refried beans, white rice, tomato, lettuce, fat-free sour cream, reduced fat cheese. Heavenly delicious.

Exercise: 25 minutes aerobic after breakfast and sit-ups
Stress: none.

Dietary Supplements: 2 salmon oil pills, 1 ultra vitamin
Day 6 of the Dannon Activia Experiment.

Deuce story: Nothing exciting here folks. The Activia is so far making for a boring blog but happy days. A tiny twig was released from its anal servitude, but nothing like yesterday's dynamite.

Sunday, July 20, 2008


The day has yet to really begin and all ready I've created a true bowl filler. A Mount Everest pierced the water and into the sky. Not exactly pleasant, but fulfilling. A familiar feeling indeed: the beer dump.

Brunch: 3 eggs on a sandwich with reduced fat cheddar cheese and turkey bacon on 9 grain wheat bread.

No nerves but stomach cramps came and went during the day. I survived them to snarf down some kobe beef sliders, french fries, and mac and cheese. Before that I had a scrumptious peanut-butter chocolate chunk cookie. That wasn't the end of my sweet tooth. For dessert I decided to go hog wild and enjoy cookies and cream ice cream with the chocolate cake described in an earlier post. Oh and I can't forget the whipped creamy goodness I added to the top.

Exercise: walking around town all day.

Dietary Supplements: salmon oil pills and an ultra vitamin.

This was Day 5 of Dannon Activia experiment. When I was walking around with stomach cramps and a full load, I was thankful that it allowed me to keep everything in.

Afterwards, there was some thunder but no lighting. The false alarm allowed me to catch up on my magazine, but nothing more.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Historical Overview of the Deuce Era

By now you are probably wondering why I have decided to write an entire blog about my bowels. You are not alone. My father kindly asked me, "why would anyone want to read about the content of your dumps?" This is a valid question. One that only you can answer. But ever since the dawn of the deuce era, I have been controlled by ever-present threat of doom. Now, I am trying to take life into my own hands. I am trying to fix this long-standing problem. I am anxiously awaiting the dawn of a new era, a happier era...The Normal-Deuce Era.
Let me give you an overview of the Deuce Era:

The Mesopantsazoic period:
The start of the Deuce Era began when I was around 17. A few close calls have penetrated my psyche to be memorable. Sadly, these were probably the happiest times of the Deuce Era.

The Bluddeanous Period: Here's where things took a turn for the worse. I began to realize that my deuce habits were not entirely normal. If you think the problems of the Mesopantsazoic Period were bad, wait until you read the solutions of the Bluddeanous Period. Not good. Comical, but not good at all.

The Crusteanous Period: This is the darkest time of the Deuce Era. The problems became epic in their frequency, destruction and embarrassment. Bad for me, but many stories for you.

The Align Period: The discovery of anal amoebas (a full story for another day) led me to this triumphant period. I was told to take an expensive pill called Align GI. This would beget some of the least traumatic times of the Deuce Era. It almost seemed that a dollar a day could keep the runs away. Life improved dramatically, but not enough to lift me from this dark era.

Which brings me to the present. We have left the Align period and have begun to take Activia. The diary as I begin down this path will help all of us chronic deucers discover if it truly works. There's hope, if only just a glimmer, that this will be the beginning of that legendary new era. But in the meantime, I have plenty of past stories to share. So whether you have disastrous deuces or just like to read about them, subscribe to the blog, sit back and enjoy. Its about to get even messier.


Breakfast: two bowls of cheerios with lactose free milk.
Lunch: Mushroom Tetrazini with goat cheese sprinkled on top. Low-fat yogurt with fresh raspberries and granola.
Dinner: Blue cheese burger with french fries with a few dark amber beers during and afterward.
After drinking snacks: dannon activia then bagel bites!!

Day 4 of the Dannon Activia experiment.

No exercise, no stress. Just bloggin.

The deuce effect: A big log was dispensed into the bowl minutes after the cheerios was eaten. If felt like more was to come, but that was not in the cards. More "normal" deuces were dispensed before and after the drinks were consumed.

Friday, July 18, 2008

The Big Deucer and the Big Bouncer

Unfortunately for me, the Deuce Era continued and cursed me beyond el Jardin. While it would be many moons before I again had to create my butt-wiping utensils, it would not be before long that I was struck under less than ideal circumstances. At this point in life, I had realized that Red Bull gives me wings... and diarrhea. But I hadn't yet come to grips with the fact that many alcohols had the tendency to induce the deuce. The story begins as any other. A young group of guys heads out to the local bars to enjoy some spirits, loud music and an overly crowded dance floor. I, as the other members of our group, took turns buying rounds of drinks. Obviously, it would be too easy if we chose the same drink each round. So we are a few deep into the night when we head to the dance floor with glasses in hand. Unfortunately for me, this is where the story takes a turn for the bizarre and the downright uncomfortable. After we had found ourselves people to dance with, the all-too-familiar gurgles began to take hold. I decided that the best way to deal with it was the classic pressure release. As the foul odor began to permeate the nostrils of everyone in the dance circle, I realized a fault in this plan. While the bar was smoky, dark and loud, a rotten stench still has a habit of being noticed. I came to the conclusion that it was best to deploy my stink bombs in stealth among strangers. I would excuse myself to "buy drinks" and release the smell of death in various corners of the room. Each time I was sure to cut it off (a well known strategy in which a simple waving motion directly behind the butt is supposed to stop the aroma from following in pursuit). But these were not ordinary stinkers. These were the precocious pre-deuce pipe-bombs that could wake the dead. There was no way to hide from them and no way to cut them off. I scoped the bathroom three or four times, but the deuce had to be avoided at all costs. Not only was the toilet urine-covered and disgusting, there was no door. Not a swinging door, or a small door. No door at all. And it wasn't exactly placed in a location where people wouldn't notice. Everybody and anybody would see the idiot in his weakest moment squatted over the toilet. As the night continued, I came to the conclusion that I had no choice. I was going to venture into new territory: the fully public, open-door bar deuce. In an alcohol induced talkative state, I shared my trepidation with everyone in the bathroom. Now most people would be a bit concerned that a stranger was talking to them about butt-bombs while they urinated. On this twisted magical night, however, there was a hero. The bouncer at this bar was the size and width of two ordinary men. More importantly, he had sympathetic ears and a heart of gold. He paged the janitor who cleaned up the toilet. Then he did what no man should have to do. He stood guard where the stall door should have been to block the view of others and give me my privacy. Mere inches from where my bowels were exploding with sounds, smells and splashes of brown, the big bouncer stood and watched....watched out for trouble. Obviously, he kept his back to me. Its not that kind of story. To the heroic bouncer, whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. I hope life has brought you all the wonderful things you deserve. And if not, at the very least, I hope that you have never again had to stand so close to another man's colon creation.


It's Friday and there is no stress in the air.
Breakfast (After exercise): One bowl of cheerios with lactose free milk
Lunch: Turkey sandwich with mayo, turkey bacon, lettuce and tomato. Parmesan cheese flavored goldfish crackers and a peanut butter flavored granola bar.
Dinner: Stir-fried vegetables with home-made peanut sauce (lactose free milk, real peanut butter, frank's hot sauce, and garlic: delicious!!)
Dessert: chocolate cake (a layer of chocolate mousse, crushed oreo, dark chocolate and flakes of white cholate) with cookies and cream ice cream.

After dinner snack: Dannon Activia yogurt with fresh raspberries.

Note: This is day 3 of the Dannon Activia experiment.

Exercise: 28 minutes of aerobic activity.

Stress: None to start the day. A little later.
Dietary supplements: same as yesterday

The deuce story: While exercising in the morning, I felt the bowels were carrying an extra load. I had my cereal and a glass of water while waiting for the deuce to roar. With nothing imminent, I went to the bathroom and waited for the moment to come. After a few firm nuggets, I was done for the moment, but left feeling unfulfilled. Then I got nervous about something on my way out and that did the trick in helping me take care of the rest of the bathroom business.


Breakfast: Cheerios with lactose free milk.
Lunch: Turkey Sandwich on 9 grain wheat bread with mayo, lettuce, and turkey bacon.
Midday snack: wheat pretzels filled with peanut butter from trader joe's
Dinner: Pineapple Chicken Fajitas with red peppers, orange peppers, cilantro/lime/jalepeno sauce, low fat cheese and low fat sour cream.
After dinner snack: Dannon Activia yogurt with fresh raspberries
Dietary supplements: 2 salmon oil pills, vitamin C, Vitamin E and a multi-vitamin

Note: This is day 2 of my plan to use Dannon Activia yogurt as the sword against my enemy. Three days ago was the last time I took Align Gi from P&G. I will chronicle that adventure separately from this post.

Stress: moderate to light.

Exercise: None

The deuce: Firm stool in the morning after the cheerios It felt a little incomplete, but nothing to follow. A few rumbles at night with loud gas roars from below, but no real problems.

Future of the Blog

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. If you are looking for the sheer entertainment of the truthful near-deuce (in pants) encounters, then read the posts with titles. If you are looking to play the guess what's triggering the irritable bowel syndrome home game, read the posts with dates. 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!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

El Jardin Age 21

Now this story is not for the faint of heart. This journey to regularity sometimes includes dark dips into the depths of true pain and suffering. I can't say I am proud of this story or pleased to share it, but it is my obligation as the author of The Deuce Diaries to share the highs and the lows.
This is a story of a young man at a fraternity + sorority mixer. The venue: el Jardin, one of the sketchiest bars in Chicago. I believe it has since been shut down. First let me describe the bathrooms. Absolutely filthy bathrooms, with lockless swinging doors on the toilet stalls. Not an ideal deuce environment. But, I am feeling good this particular evening. Nothing to worry about. I can't remember what drinks I was ordering, but I know I wasn't drunk enough to be comfortable with what was about to happen.
I was dancing with a non-descript lady when the thunder hit. I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. That's when I realized what horror was in store for me. With one hand on the swinging door and the other hand on my pants to keep them off the pea-soaked ground, I let loose the deuce. Fortunately, my aim was adequate. Unfortunately, I discovered that there was no toilet paper. Not in that stall, not in the entire bathroom. No paper towels either! In case you didn't know, moist deuces are not ones to leave uncleaned. This was a true deuce-aster. Whether it was a stroke of genius, or an idiotic act of drunkenness, I came up with a plan. Close your eyes, kids. I did the scoop and wash routine. I used my hands to clean the filth downstairs and washed very carefully at the sink. Rinse and repeat.
The story continues with another el Jardin bathroom move before I discovered a small little restaurant across the street. I spent half of the social event alone in a stall across the street. I left that night with little dignity left, but the secret was mine alone until now. Moral of the story: 1) check for tp before you poopie (a cheesy rhyme). And if there's none, scoop and wash when you are done.

Spring Break

This is a classic tale that ends just as it began. I was 21 and five days. I was set to head down to a classy Spring Break at Daytona Beach, Florida. I had been home for a few days in Ohio and my friends were to pick me up along their way down from Chicago. As my father was bringing me to the drop-off point, I felt a familiar feeling...The gurgles. The impending doom in my stomach compelled me to direct the car to the nearest exit. I hurried through a Wal-Mart, past the kiddie carousel and to the dirty bathroom. I shot off a few squirts in the bathroom and thought I was ready to go. We pulled back on the highway. I felt the pains again. I thought I could relieve the pressure with a gas release. Unfortunately, there was more than just natural gas in the pipes. I clenched the butt cheeks together as tightly as possible and requested a U-turn to the familiar Wal-Mart. As a territorial creature, I headed to the same stall I had just soiled and shared more of my innards with the bowl. This time, I stocked up on some Pepto-Bismol to help me survive the 9 hours of driving we had ahead for ourselves. I could go on to describe the watery deposits I left at various restaurants, gas stations and stores along the way. Or how annoyed my friends were. But instead, I fast forward to the excitement of Daytona Beach. Having survived my bouts with the squirts, I was ready to partay! The drink du jour was Red Bull and Vodka. It tastes so good, and gives you energy while you drink. Unfortunately, it also gave me something else: the shitz. In case you were unaware, nightclub bathrooms in Daytona Beach aren't exactly hygienic. The horrible rumblings in my stomach were unending and the trips to the bathrooms were constant. Nothing really comedic here, just a good old fashioned moral: Red Bull can and most likely will trigger the 'rhea.