He had been threatening for some time to document his poo.
My boyfriend and I decided to go out for cheeseburgers the night before Thanksgiving. I had put myself through a vigorous, two-hour workout that day, so I figured I'd earned it. We went to a local diner. He had a cheeseburger with bacon; I had mine with mushrooms. Fries for both of us, of course, and a milkshake. About three quarters of the way through I got full, so I gave him the rest of my burger.
I should mention that he is Asian American. Before you say I'm being racist, I will tell you that he claims Asians are lactose-intolerant. I don't know if I buy it, but in the interest of fair reporting, I present all sides.
The next day, Thanksgiving, we went off to my parents' place. No turkey, but plenty of chicken and pork, along with the usual fare -- potatoes, bread, corn, stuffing, etc. Ahh. Two evenings of eating heavily and I was more than ready for my satisfying but fairly standard, modest dump. Not so with him. The aromas emanating from his ass after dinner did not bode well.
I was in the living room setting up the Christmas tree when he brought over the digital camera. Yes, after a dinner at which my mother had said grace, while I was preparing the symbol that many people worldwide use to signify the birth of the savior of humankind, he took a picture of the fecal fiend he had unleashed in my parents' crapper. I'm not religious myself, but I mixed God's name with a number of choice utterances as I stared in disbelief at the camera's view screen.
What he spawned was a twisted, evil mockery of the season. As green as the Christmas tree, it had a central core of intertwining turdlets, with some branches reaching out toward a halo of yellow-green sludge.
A wad of toilet paper as big as the demon itself was evidence of his struggle to exorcise the remnants of this foul caricature. I have to say that I was impressed with the uncharacteristic level of effort on his part. Then my feelings turned to dismay, as I noted that the ball of paper was floating very neatly and very distinctly away from the shit, leading me to wonder if any manipulation was involved in setting up the photo. I still don't have the nerve to ask.
Too bad PoopReport has a no-photo policy.
-- Shatty Cake