So last night I eat some chips and salsa, because I can- it’s one of the things that don’t bug me too much. And this morning, I take the dog out for his morning constitutional, wander around the kitchen a bit, bring a coffee to the office and sit preparing to type today’s first post, which will actually now end up being today’s second post. I figure I’ll get the post in, have a coffee, and take MY morning constitutional, get back and see who’s online to yap with this fine morning.

And I get this alarmingly loud message from my colon:

FECES DELIVERY IN T-MINUS 4, 3, 2,….

WHAT???

So I run out of the office. Through the living room. Kicking baskets of laundry out of my way, flinging my bathrobe on the dog, I find I cannot pinch tightly enough to stem the tide, and believe me, it is a TIDE. I make it to the bathroom but not quickly enough to have avoided CRAPPING IN MY HAND, and dropping a little here and there on the BATHMATS. I get past the first wave and start cleaning behind myself, hop in the shower and bring the bathmats with me, clean the bathrooom and scrub the crapper where I’ve “missed” and get the bathroom more or less under control, when the SECOND WAVE HITS. This time, fortunately I’m IN the bathroom so I manage to get it all IN the crapper, but this time the CRAPPER WILL NOT FLUSH. So I take the garbage bag ou tof the garbage can and fill it in the bathtub, use the water to “powerflush” the jogh, and finish cleaning the bathroom.

Beer. It was the first time I’d had a beer since the operation, and the beer hosed up my plumbing. I ain’t never doing that again. Damn.