Y'all Are About To Get English Major'd

Good Afternoon Fellow Poopers,

Reading through the various poop blogs, I have begun to wonder to myself: What is my place in the poop blog community? What purpose can I serve? How can I find my niche in the world of bowel movements? I thought long and hard about this -- through an entire Contemporary Drama class this morning -- and I came to a conclusion. Unlike the rest of the blogers listed here, I am an English Major. Therefore it is my duty to blog about my feces in a way only an English Major can: pretentiously, with a stick up my ass, and generally aloof to the world around me. Henceforth, I call to the great muses and ask them to imbue in me a sense of profoundness and eloquence when speaking of my turds.
For my first exercise I intend to conjure not simply a physical description of my crap for you, but instead invoke every one of your senses. I do not merely want to show you my poop; I want you to touch it; hear it; smell it; taste it; take in the full experience of this most powerful shit as if you were getting hit in the face with a snowball. So, without further ado, I give you

To the Men's Lavatory on the Second Floor of Mugar Library,
And My Contents Therein

Hello.
Hello there.
Hello nine inches of solid brown delight.
You are special.

You are a Qdoba Fajita Ranchera,
After the fact.
You are peppers, wild rice, chopped steak; burrito.

Burrito.

Burrito.

Burrito's always go through smoothly -- without a yelp of a grunt.
"But what kind of salsa?" you ask.
Hot.
Every time; so hot.
Hot like a midday blacktop in July.
Hot like a tamale.
Hot like Shawty on the dance floor.
Hot like a five dollar whore sucking my juices of her porcelain white skin.

And all I had to do was sit,
Pee a little bit,
Then tighten my fists and calves like it was my job.
Like I was trying to move something with my mind.
(Oh yeah, I moved something all right.)
(Wink.)

Gasoline, mothballs, bad fish, sulfur, a skunk, ammonia,
Vomit.
Was ever a scent so foul?

"Plop," it says to me.
"Thank you," my lower intestines say back.

Now you are on your way.
The circle of life continues.

Thank God there wasn't any blood.


Thank you, hope you enjoyed.

Later Days,
Adam LL