Sometimes I Cry


America, why have you deserted me in my time of need? Why can I not take a decent shit? I have never been able to succeed in this single most important act throughout my entire life. Sometimes I question my manhood because of this. Some days I am amazed at the fact that I didn't marry a fatty or even worse a "Butter Face"... Seriously, every time I go and sit on my throne, all I am left with at the end is bitter sweet sorrow. I will sit down, consult the higher deities, and yes sometimes even Buddha; yet nothing ever comes of this. I just can't take it anymore. Sometimes I browse sites like Ratemypoo.com in hopes that my colon will become inspired. Just tolerate me for a moment, Internet. Hold my hand until the very end. You think at this very moment all I am are sentence fragments and grammatical errors. This is just not the case. Let us proceed to something utterly "taboo". Just let me show you what others have proclaimed, to which I cannot help, but feel jealous in spite of.

It's some serious shit.



The Poo Scepter



This fucking guy can not only drop a decent deuce, but he holds it as if it were his royal fucking scepter. Watch the king proudly as he sits prominently upon his throne and displays his scepter for the lower castes. I would seriously think about offering up some goats and virgins because I am that fucking humbled by this guy.

Well, that is, if goats were readily available at the moment and virgins were still in existence.

Aww... Fuck it... Let's continue so that you may clearly understand why I cry myself to sleep at night.



The Poo Pretzel



Look at this will you?!?! What art and talent. I'm sitting here trying to be inspired, but the only feelings instilled in me are of extreme jealousy and rage. I am sitting here with a stomach that feels like the insides of an already thrice cycled trash compactor, and this fucking douche is making pretzels out of his "Man Droppings"... Why for do you mock me? If this were the days of Camelot and the boys at the square table, I would get medieval on your ass and ride my horse over your sternum.

I know how you are feeling, Internet. This is like a road side highway collision, better yet, a train wreck. You want to rip your eyes out their sockets, you want to beg for mercy and common deceny, but you and I both know you can't stop looking. You just can't help it and so you sit there and contemplate what my next picture is going to be



The Proudly Displayed Poo Bag



Not only can this gentleman and Master of Defecation get the job done, but he has also chosen to take his winnings and proudly display them in a bag for the world to see. I can't even slip out half a turd, yet there are people out there who will proudly leave the safety of their own domiciles and bring their poo with them for all to appreciate. I now officially hate this guy more so that the Golden Girls. Fuck you Rose. Fuck you Dorothy. Blanche, give me a call.

Finally, Internet! I will show you the reason I am here. This is why I feel inferior. This is why I feel I should become gay and watch Party Monster over and over again. This is the one reason for which I cannot believe I am actually married to a real living woman. Internet, I give you....



My Poop



Yes, this is the reason I find myself sitting in front of laptop tonight. I am shedding tears right now in loathsome self pity. I would not go through all this trouble of surfing the internet to find cool pictures of poo unless I was extremely disappointed in myself.

Now you know.