For threedays prior to Chimbo, then Christmas day and boxing day I was constantly larroped on cleverness varying from Mulled wine, bulmers, wobbly, becks and some Weissen beer the doris managed to find me. By the 27th full up to the brim with festive shite food, goodies, choccy, biccys, puddings the lot, it dawned on me that I hadn't 'gone solid' for a few days. A swift pint of fresh orange usually sorts that, so was somewhat surprised when 3 litres later I still felt like there was a bowling ball stuck in my fallopian tube, or whatever I sh1t from. This rapidly turned to agony rendering me too poorly to do anything other than watch lie to me in bed all day. The doris came in frequently, asking if I was ok, if I'd been yet, if I wanted my head squeezing etc...... but I just wanted to be alone. Doubled up, I sat on the edge of the bed, sweating and twitching, wondering how this next pointless trip to the trumping pot would leave me...... I needn't have bothered worrying. I was about to recreate the dawn of the universe, in my own bedroom. As I sat up off the bed, there was an explosion, similiar to that one when the death star got the good news....... it wasn't particularly loud, more like a moist plunge, like sinking a fist into a bag of jelly. I'm only disapointed that I wasn't able to see the full glory of the blat as I was halfway standing up and my anus is just below my back. No word of a lie, and on the life of my nipper, there was beige and magnolia coloured nastyness all over the bed, floor, bedside table, phone, shoes.... my recreation of the solar system had given birth to new dung planets, granted, only very small and very very wet, but similar all the same. I even managed to sprinkle a bit on the hound that was kipping on the floor. I clearly let out a huge sigh and I think my bottom lip wobbled a bit. The worst was yet to come though, I heard the doris running up the stairs. I immediatley evaluated whether there would be time from her clearing the landing to the bedroom door whether I could disguise the freshly decorated 6 foot square space around my hoop. I've seen her shocked, but not like this, he face looked like she seen a ghost, a big sh1tstained ghost that emitted a stench like pure silage. She let out a small scream, then vommed in her own hands and ran out the room. This clearly caught the attention of the nipper who ran down the landing, got a whiff before she entered the room and barfed up the bedroom door. I felt immediatley better for freeing the poobeast that was lurking within, but I'd be lying if I said cleaning up didn't have me heaving a few times. My finest moment, and one which I must share was, prior to stepping in the shower, I looked in the mirror with a bit of a grin, turned around and noticed I'd actually managed to dung up my own back and even the back of my sack. The doris seems quite genuine when she tells me she doesn't think she can ever come near me again and my nipper thinks I'm some kind of mad sh1t freak...... but I guess its another tick on the box of lifes milestones. Anyone else shat up their own backs? and does anyone know how to get runny sh1t out of a blackberry?