|Courtesy of Melis82 |
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Since opting for early retirement from the day job three months ago, I have developed a fixation with my bowels. Rarely a moment goes by without me ruminating over the internal activities of the 1.5 metres of tubing that languishes in the pit of my abdomen. And there is plenty to think about; my bowel is a mystery of such intricacy it renders the Bermuda Triangle, Jack the Ripper and the Turin Shroud all obvious by comparison.
I’ve concluded my large intestine has a wicked sense of humor. Throughout most of my earlier life it pulsed with gusto, its manic and unpredictable contractions rendering me vulnerable to recurrent looseness. Twelve months ago I adopted a healthier lifestyle, jogging three times per week and eating a low-fat/high-fibre diet, a change that resulted in the welcome loss of 20 pounds. But my bowels, like militant union leaders, opted for a go-slow and thereby triggered extended periods of constipation.
After hours, nay days, of visualizing the festering faeces backing up in my labyrinth of turgid intestines, I entered the phrase ‘cures for constipation’ into my Google search engine. I skipped the recommended laxatives (I have an aversion to medications of any type) and the glass of daily prune juice achieved little more than nausea. So I probed for more creative remedies in an effort to prompt my lazy bowel into action.
Standing on the seat and squatting, thereby recreating the more 'natural’ pooing position of our pre-toilet ancestors, was a non-starter; my iffy knee ligaments couldn’t cope with such athleticism. Elevating one’s feet while sitting on the toilet and rocking backwards and forwards was another recommendation, accompanied by confident claims that it would help lever the arid detritus out of the darkness. So I duly conveyed our plastic foot-stool from the kitchen to the toilet, sat down and, with my knees under my chin, performed repeated lunges, back and forth, inhaling on the backswing and exhaling on the forward lurch. My panting attracted unwanted attention.
‘Stop that,’ shouted Mrs Jones from the other side of the door, 'you’ll go blind!’
Undeterred, I persisted with my rocking and thrusting for several minutes but, alas, I only succeeded in pissing on the bathroom floor.
My bowel mystery does, however, have a happy ending. I’ve discovered the perfect solution: beer. A minimum of two pints per day of cask ale maintains regularity. Sorted!
Where did you get my Christmas picture??ReplyDelete
I've been stalking you, AlDelete
LOL welcome to my world. Metamucil orange flavored drink works quite well if your plumbing backs up. Copious amounts of alcohol do the same. Guess which one I choose?ReplyDelete
Yes, I imagine you're more inclined towards a tipple or two!Delete
I have the opposite problem. I don't like beer but I might give it another try if convinced it will stop MY problem.ReplyDelete
Don't you know, Stephen, alcohol solves all problems (at least for the time it takes to sober up).Delete
I'm laughing so hard! Careful with the beer though, too much of that and you'll be having liquid shits for days.ReplyDelete
Thanks for the advice - I'll limit it to no more than 6 pints per day (except for Xmas, New Year, Anniversaries, Weddings, Fridays ...)Delete
You sir...are my freaking hero! I love this post, it is poop perfection at its finest.ReplyDelete
Poop-perfection! What greater accolade could I wish for?ReplyDelete
I'm so glad that you worked it out.ReplyDelete
Men and their bowels. It's a mystery to me.ReplyDelete
It is reassuring to hear that men still hold some mystery in the eyes of woman-kind!ReplyDelete
As a non-beer-drinker (I know, I know, shocking), I can vouch for coffee doing the trick, at least in my case. As a bonus, I only piss on the bathroom floor a maximum of two times a week!ReplyDelete
Only twice per week? What a snob!Delete
Hey, it took hard work to bring that number down from twice a day, so don't hate me for my runaway success!Delete
Ahahaha! So funny! One of my sons crouches on the toilet like a baseball catcher...or our ancestors...at least I assume he still does. It's been a few months since I've witness his going. I find that coffee keeps me pretty regular - and lots of fruits and vegetables. I've eaten quite a bit of pasta in the past few days and that hasn't really made my bows happy. Salad tonight!ReplyDelete
Coffee usually does the trick for me. I poo at least once a day during the week, but for some reason, I don't poo as much as I should on the weekends. Even while consuming several beers. There's something about a Saturday that clogs me up. Therefore, Mondays are typically my worst poo days.ReplyDelete
Fascinating stuff, Chiz, the idiosyncratic behavior of bowels.Delete