Africa crapblogging
One of the things about making like a bear is the lack of suitable support. Our intrepid guides had solved this problem by providing a travelling seat, formerly used as a handicapped crapper for some elderly person. It came in plenty handy.

The first time you use this, you notice several things. First of all, the total lack of surround. So if you absently begin urinating, you realize you’re pissing directly into the seat of your own drawers. Unless you very quickly grab your business and point it straight down. Also, since I have issue with the… size of the Honore De Balzac, it’s not necesary (as is my norm) to hang them over the edge of the seat, they can dangle in the breeze. Which is an interesting sensation.
The most interesting bit, and here’s where the squeamish might want to go see what’s going on at Tam’s today, is the new culinary masterwork I tasted while on safari.
No, I’m not talking about Lechwe, or Reedbok, those things were just meat, and we all know meat is murder, and nurder tastes fine. I’m talking about that bastion of carbohydrate suppliments, the food known as Purina Bachelorette chow, the Canadian “Kraft Dinner”, Macaroni and Cheese.
I had never eaten it before.
We tended not to eat boxed prepackaged stuff in my house, and this was the very worst of it, melted oily pseudo cheese. But this was not what i sampled.
Our cook, Wilson, and one of our hosts, prepared this, with some leftover sghetti noodles and macaroni, about (apparently) forty pounds of butter, and a mountain of shredded cheddar (From Cheddar in England)
It was quite nice, actually. Anything with actual cheese in it is good. And while I dislike pasta, I could handle it.
ANd then I learned something about Pasta.
At least this stuff. It has the same cohesive properties as Rebar.
So as I sat on the camp crapper the next day, and began to lay a cable, I REALLY began to lay a cable. The seat of the crapper was a solid 28″ high, and the latrine hole went a solid 3′ below that. And this sturdy, pasta reinforced turd was hanging almost the whole distance. At some point the weight was so substantial that it began pulling itself out, no straining required at all, and I momentarily feared for the integrity of my large intestine, when it slipped out and plapped into the hole like so much slimy wet rope. I was so empty if i held my mouth just right I whistled like a whiskey jug. I lifted my drawers, flushed,(kick sand into the hole) and went out to shoot me some beests.
Yeah, the mac and cheese was OK, but I’ll hold off on the spaghetti if I ever try to make it myself.
14 comments Og | Uncategorized

It wasn’t the spaghetti; it was the cheese. Cheese and dairy products binds you up, if you’re not lactose intolerant.
As for the crapper, did anything think to tie a sheet of plastic between the front legs so that if you did forget to point the business end of your trouser-browser downwards, that you wouldn’t hit the seat of your pants. That would also help too, if you had Montezuma’s Revenge and you start making like a Bombadier Beetle on steroids.
Oh my goodness! Og! Your penultimate paragraph hurt my sides.
clearly the sghetti, I never have trouble with cheese.
This post made me wanna take a healthy dump. Bravo!
Og, you are the undisputed King of Crapblogging.
Rob Smith, alas, is defunct. And Velociman and I are the only other serious contenders.
This post establishes your claim to the “throne.” And, seriously, what else would the King of Crapblogging sit upon, anyway?
And he’d be driving the Porschelain
Damn, I’ve read Hemmingway, Ruark, Capstick, and some others on African safaris.
They wrote about hunting.
You write about the quality of your dumps.
Man, oh man, I do believe they missed the whole point of the experience.
Just a thought.
What a visual!!!!!!!!!!!
I have tears in my eyes and I don’t even like toilet humor!!!!!!!
Good God man! That’s some crap bloggin. Did you “pink-sock” yourself?
No pink sock, thank god.
My hunting partner liberated one of those chairs after his great-grandmother died and deer camp hasn’t been the same since.
That was the second good belly-laugh I’ve gotten tonight.
Good Job, Sir!
[…] This one’s for Roberta Because scatology need not only involve poo […]
[…] So I leave you with the famous painting of the Three Sniffers: Three men come to a latrine, and smell the fumes emanating therefrom. The first, Confucious, twisted his face in a gruesome display of disgust, and said “I cannot imagine but this unfortunate soul has been poisoned by processed foods, he must return to a simple diet of rice and fish head soup to regain his digestive health” The second man, Buddha, smelled and also twisted his face in pain. “This man will suffer greatly, as I suffer, but he will transcend this life to be where there is no poo” The third, lau Tse, inhaled deeply and smiled, thinking “how lovely will be my banana tree!” […]