not my poo

I promise. This is not about my poo.

If this were my poo, I’d be way too ashamed to talk about it. But since this isn’t my poo, I’m just crass enough to blog about it.

So I walk into the men’s room to make a #1 visit. I walk into a stall and find a massive log in the toilet bowl. Too big to go down the first time I surmised. So I finish my business and flushed. It didn’t move. I flushed a second time. It didn’t move. I come back to my workstation and mention all this to the folks in the irc chat, and then then inspiration strikes!

I have a camera phone now. I’m at liberty to take inappropriate grainy photographs at any moment!

So I walk back to the men’s room. The poor bastard was still there. I felt bad for it. I took this picture to document for posterity the poo that wouldn’t go away. I flushed yet again and noticed that it was beginning to wear away where the water stream had been rushing by it with each flush. I guessed it might break in two with 2-3 more flushes, but there remains a strong possibility that the remaining pieces will still clog the plumbing.

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