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!

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.

The beginning of the "Deuce Era"

I trace the roots of the "Deuce Era" back to when I was 17 (eleven years ago). Historians may dispute whether this was in fact the dawn of the new era, but it is in fact the first rectal malfunction that I can remember. My friends and I were on an undisclosed mission that made me quite nervous. It was then that my first memory of "the Gurgles" occurred. I felt the rumbling of the stomach and I felt trouble. We pulled into a gas station near where the mission was to unfold. Unfortunately, the nerves hit and I had to lighten my load. The gas station was closed and we weren't near a bathroom. The hot flashes of the imminent deuce overcame my body. I scouted a spot behind a garbage dumpster where I could relieve my colon of its demons. To my dismay, it was too well lit for me to function privately. I went back to the car thinking we could go home and call the whole thing off. But the gurgles hit even harder. I desperately searched the car for something to use for when the deed was done. I couldn't do the mission with squishy pants. I came across a paper back edition of Great Expectations. Perfect! Reading material and toilet paper all in one. My English teacher would be proud that I put Dickens to such good use. Pants at the ankles, and hands on the dumpster, the liquid fury was dispensed upon the asphalt. The story goes on to police wondering what we were doing in a closed gas station and why there was human excrement so close to our vehicle. But what matters most is this was the beginning of a new era: The Deuce Era. And it was about to get worse. A lot worse.

The Art of the Deuce

Welcome to The Deuce Diaries. My father always told me that I was a perfect asshole. Unfortunately, I do not have one. My life has been cursed with many horrific bathroom moments, but now you will be blessed with entertainment and knowledge. Here I will chronicle my quest for regularity and the tribulations along the way. Reading this blog, you can play the "guess what caused the deuce problems" home game. You may also find yourself laughing out loud about the embarrassment that a little rectal malfunction can cause. And you may even learn something as I detail what I have done to get a little closer to normal.


Deuces Wild