How to Enjoy the Deuce Diaries

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

Friday, December 3, 2010

Call to arms

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

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

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

Thanks Bill!

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

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