The Conhead Catastrophe

There’s really nothing quite like a “Conehead Sundae” from Friendly’s.

I remember I used to always get them for desert with my kids meal. For those of you who don’t know, the conehead sundae is a scoop of ice cream with a cone on top and a smiley face made out of Reese’s Pieces. If Elliot had ever taken E.T. to Friendly’s, he’d have shot a huge load of alien goo in his flannel shirt when he saw this tasty treat. (NOTE: I used to order my conehead sundaes with chocolate ice cream so I could have African-American coneheads with dark chocolate faces. I would call them "Wesley Scoops").

When I went to Friendly’s the other night for ice cream, I scanned the dessert menu 4 times and couldn’t find the conehead sundae anywhere! I had to settle for a Reese’s Pieces Sundae – 3 scoops of _mocha chunk ice cream, caramel, peanut butter, hot fudge, and of course, some tasty Pieces. This is probably a better sundae than the conehead to begin with, but it did not have a face on it… or a cone.

Well, this thing was tasty as hell, and I ate the shit out of it. However, as I got up to leave, I started to wonder if I could contain it for the 5 minute ride to my house. When I saw a fat lady paying her massive bill at the front, I realized I wouldn’t make it, so I bolted for the restroom in the back.

I sat down in the handicap stall and gave a little squeeze. The logs flowed fast and furious! There were four of them, each about 3-and-a-half inches in length. When I looked down into the bowl, I saw what looked like 4 flaccid, black mini-dildos.

A fine decision and a fine result. I've never been diagnosed as "lactose intolerant", but this episode would suggest that it's a strong possibility. Either way, there's nothing that could prevent me from going back for seconds! It was that damn good. And besides, how could I hate on 4 logs? That's like the Denny's grand slam breakfast of poop.

The Serious Side of Poo

Sometimes it is important to remember that pooping can literally save your life.

GUEST LOGGER

Here is an excellent email I received about a reader's anus that made me laugh a lot...
******************

Circa ~1988:
I'm out East with a girlfriend who's brother owns Chung King House of Metal, and we were at the Apollo for a New Year's Eve bash with the likes of 3rd Bass and LL Cool J. Besides 3rd Base, me, my girlfriend, her brother, and a few record exec's, the place was black as midnight. Well, Serch and I decided to partake in some organic treats to set the evening on its ear.

One thing lead to another, and the next thing I know I'm tripping balls surrounded by the cast of The Wiz. I have to poop, so I will make this short-- I thought I had to shit, I talked myself into thinking it was my imagination, I went to fart, I destroyed my trousers. I went to a rather nice backstage restroom and cleaned myself up as best as possible, but the smell was quite noticable. My girlfriend asked me several times if I could smell shit, and I responded, "Honey, Black people have a peculiar odor about them, and this is true with all races. Stop being a racist pig."

Hot Log Eating Contest

Last Saturday, I went to a Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest qualifying event in downtown Philly. I was there to support my buddy Scotty “The Tapeworm”, though I didn’t have much faith in his ability to compete with some of the finest eaters in the world.

Before the contest, I met “Yellowcake” – the #16 ranked eater in the world by the IFOCE (International Federation of Competitive Eating). This guy was like 6-8 and 300 lbs. Obviously, he didn’t have a soft touch in the post or any jumping ability. I also saw that there was Buffalo Bob and Humble Bob, who both looked like talented gurgitators.

Some dude handed me an Opie & Anthony bumper sticker and told me to watch out for this guy “Pat from Munacki”. I had no idea who this was since I haven’t really listened to O&A since they moved to satellite. Blogging about my anus doesn’t exactly afford me great luxuries.

Anyway, this "Pat from Munacki" guy was the ugliest, fattest fuck I’ve ever seen in my life. Good thing he was wearing a hat and shorts so we didn’t have to see all the pimples and warts on his head and ass to match the ones all over his fat, disgusting face. I take it back – they should just make these guys all compete shirtless like boxers so we can get a true appreciation for their nauseating girth. You gotta work hard for that.

Anyway, I tried to offer my buddy The Tapeworm a “competitive edge” out of my 1-hitter, but he unwisely declined, and ended up eating a measly 7 hot dogs. I had already eaten a whitefish salad bagel and 2 root beer floats, and I could have eaten 7 dogs!

But as the competition went on, it was clear that this Pat guy was putting on the performance of a lifetime. He was clearly an underdog and was learning his technique by watching those around him. Despite only average technique, this guy showed the heart of a true eater - a heart that was working extra hard to pump cased meats through his few remaining unclogged arteries. The crowd was on fire! Once big Pat did his “fat guy wiggle dance”, it was all over. Everyone was rooting for him, myself included. How could you not root for this guy? He probably hasn’t seen his balls since he was 12. Plus his name even rhymes with "fat"! How cool is that? [If I ever adopt an African-American child, I'm gonna name him "Mack".]

Anway, big Pat downed 20 nasty ass Nathan’s hot dogs (which are gross. Why couldn’t Ball Park get in on this action? At least they "plump when you cook ‘em!"). But he’ll need to do some serious training to beat that little Japanese dude in the nationals.

What I really want to know, though, is what does a 20-dog dump look like? What does it feel like? What does it taste like? Can someone send me a picture of this fresh out the bowl? Or else, just send me an overly graphic story and I’ll post you as a “guest LOGger” on The Chronicles of My Anus! See, anyone's anus can get in on the fun! (NOTE: I stole that last line from the mission statement at www.hotgaysex.com)

GUEST LOGGER - "The Tapeworm"

Here's The Tapeworm's account of his piss-poor (ahem, I mean't "poo-poor") performance in the Hot Dog eating contest...

************************
After sulking away from a disappointing 7-hot-dog run in the Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest in Philadelphia, PA, I had little to hang my hat on. I had failed to live up to my self-appointed moniker of Scott "The Tapeworm" Pollack, let alone the expectations of my devoted fan base. With a somber tone I made my way back up to my native New York, putting out of mind the forgettable events of recent past to look
forward to the inevitable release to come.

I learned the art of the Pollack poo from my father, Gilbert "The Incinerator" Pollack, so named for his ability to consume everyday foods and some objects and produce smoldering masses of human waste. Between me and my only other sibling, Justin "The Music Man" Pollack, I was a favored, star pupil of the poo-pil.. Over the years I'd honed my excretion skills, to the point where no bathroom is safe from the wrath of my expunging anus. Today, however, I was to make my father proud.

From the moment the clock struck down the last second of the twelve minute contest, as the beefy juices of seven meat by-product sausages and corresponding spongy potato buns stewed in my distended belly, I knew I had a a few good logs in the chute. I crashed for a couple hours, allowing an appropriate curing time for the masterful shit I had been awaiting. Seven hours for seven hot dogs, an hour of colonic brewing for each meatstick. With moments to spare, I began the Pre-Poo
Launch Procedures. Primary TP: check. Secondary backup roll: check. Long-use reading material (book, not magazine): check. T-minus 1 minute. I made my way to the toilet like a member of the Apollo missions. My warm flesh created a tight seal around the hole of the bowl, and I buckled down for takeoff. I hit the ignition. The engine flared, the starter turned over with a few chugs of pre-log flatulence.
Like a virginal deflowering I bit my lip and tightened my grip, as I pushed that baby out.

I wish I could report that the resulting feces was a sight for sore eyes, but alas, the shit-baby I had so built up in my mind and large intestine was stillborn. A few tadpoles, a couple of gaseuous releases, but hardly anything to warrant the excitement. Like my run for the coveted championship Nathan's Mustard Yellow Belt, a spectacular leadup led to another stunning round of soul-tearing disappointment, rather than ass-tearing pooping. I am sorry, Father, I have failed you.

Regrettably yours,
Scott "The Tapeworm" Pollack

"Moore" Fantastic Logs!

Now that I'm done offending the internet and people with AIDS, I figured I'd get back to the essence of what makes this blog so great...........

My anus!!!

I had a good pretty good one at the Moorestown Mall the other day in the food court, which brought my “mall food court pooping total” for the past two weeks up to 2. I think these malls strategically locate their restrooms in the food court because mall food makes people have to poop a lot.

I think what set me off was doing 20 laps around the food court just so I could get more free samples of sesame chicken on toothpicks. You've gotta be smooth about that, so each time I walked by I'd pass by and then pretend like I just spotted the guy out of the corner of my eye and then stop suddenly like, "hey! sesame chicken!" Then, I'd chew on it slowly and pretend like I was contemplating actually buying stuff that they're giving me for free! Never!!!

So then I would take off my jacket, walk around again, and do the same thing. Each time I did something different to make me look like a different person, like roll my sleeves up or mess up my hair a bit. I'd throw out my toothpick during the lap just so there was no evidence that I had already gotten a piece of that tasty chicken. During some laps, I'd try to get extra pieces with clever ruses like, "The guy at the register is trying to ask you something! [then yoink a few pieces when he turns]". One time I told the guy that I needed an extra one for my mom and just pointed to a random woman in the food court. The guy seemed suspicious since it was an obese black woman, but I got the extra piece of sesame chicken, and that's what counts!

NOTE: This whole "free-chicken" thing is much easier to do if you are asian, since they all look alike.

The damage from my escapades was really just one massive log. Nothing to sneeze at really. But as a guy who has dropped off some of the most gigantic logs in some of the most horrific places, I generally don’t bother writing about just another run-of-the mill 8-incher with an inch-and-a-half diameter. HA! I drop those in my sleep!

But the thing that made this experience so crazy was that the toilet kept automatically flushing every time I reached for some more TP! It was powerful too!

After cold sewer water shot up my anus for the fifth time in 4 minutes, I decided that there was only one option – I had to stand up and wipe! This would normally be quite difficult, but mercifully, the poo was fairly dry and well-contained. I shouldn’t have had to do a “satellite wipe” (you know – a quick moisture check around the outer regions before heading for the core) since there was no dookie splatter, but I had to get the water out of my asshairs so they wouldn’t make my underpants uncomfortably moist.

This was still better than my Cherry Hill Mall experience earlier in the week, since the toilet seats in Moorestown didn’t have any crabs on them!

"Magic" Feedback

Well, it appears that I have successfully incited chaos on the Internet with my “Magic’s House” posting. By your comments, I was able to draw some of the following conclusions:

1. There are a lot of Lakers fans who enjoy reading about poop.
2. There are a staggering number of people who both have AIDS and are able to use the Internet. (Coincidence? I think not!)
3. People who do not find The Chronicles [of my anus] funny, are generally unoriginal and probably love Jesus a lot.

I’d like to touch on that third point for a minute. Whether you feel I’m an ignorant moron or not (even though I clearly am), you’d think that the last person could come up with a more original rip than calling me an ignorant moron again, right? Doesn’t anyone carry around a Thesaurus anymore?

Look, lame-o’s – I’ll help cure you of your originality deficiencies with a little brainstorming exercise. Work with me here:

jimmy hat, rubber, wrapper, raincoat, protection, lambskin, magnum, ribbed…

What are those? ... Give up? Those are all words that relate to condoms. Perhaps if you people would have known that, you wouldn’t be spreading around so much AIDS.

I should have known that there would be a lot of homos Googling this blog when I put the word “anus” in the title!

However, it's time to get back to what made this site great - more chronicles of my anus!!! I’ll be back later today with some great stories about the moist brownie batter that I sprayed from my rectal canal last night before I went to bed.

Magic's House

Here's something I've been thinking about a lot lately for absolutely no reason whatsoever:

If you were at Magic Johnson's house and had to take a dump, would you do it? or would you just hold it in and risk losing it in your pants and having it roll down your leg onto the floor?

Right now, I'm leaning towards "holding it," since often times my logs are large and cause slight tears of my anal walls, which would make me more susceptable to getting the AIDS that is floating around in the air in his house. This is the reason that gay people get a lot of AIDS (because they tear up each other's anal walls during sex, not because they hang out at Magic Johnson's house).

However, in order to carefully ASSess the situation, I've decided to list some pro's and con's about whether you should poop at Magic's house or hold it in.

PRO: You don't really want to poop yourself in front of a celebrity, do you?
CON: I'm sure he has plenty of maids who have encountered this before. They'll clean up the poop. Just say his dog (or his wife) did it if anyone asks you.

PRO: He probably isn't gonna let you use the same toilet that he poops in anyway.
CON: Yeah, but we don't know how fast AIDS travels in the air. What if it flies around really fast, or attaches itself to dust particles? Do you really want to spread cheek and risk AIDS-laced dust particles flying up your rectum?

PRO: You could tell your friends, "I took a dump at Magic Johnson's house!"
CON: You could end up telling your friends, "I took a dump at Magic Johnson's house...... and got AIDS!"

PRO: Well, Isiah Thomas guarded him at his last All Star Game, and he didn't get AIDS!
CON: Yeah, but Isiah guarded him from 10 feet away. Besides, Isiah's gay anyway, so you gotta figure he knows how to protect himself from AIDS. Haven't you ever heard him talk?

PRO: Magic's had AIDS forever, and he looks fine!
CON: Well, he is a bit chubby. But you don't have Magic's money, so the AIDS is gonna kill your ass.

PRO: But what's the big deal? I've already got AIDS!
CON: Uh... er... well, I guess you should just go for it then! I'm not a doctor or anything, but can you get more AIDS then you already have?

PRO: Oops, my bad! I meant I've already got Herpes, not AIDS.
CON: Well, you've already decided that it was okay to poop at Mike Vick's house, so you obviously have no qualms about this sort of thing. Drop it like it's hot!

UPDATE: "Close Call"

For those of you who were concerned about yesterday, it took an extra cup of coffee, but I eventually got the rest of the poo out in the afternoon and successfully unclogged my rectum. It came out in the form of one big Momma log, followed by one Deformed Brown Offspring log.

Don't worry though - after a basket of Applebee's riblets from last night and a crock of french onion soup, with this afternoon's KFC 3-piece crispy strips meal (w/ a biscuit and sides of macaroni and potato wedges, all dipped in a combination of ranch dressing and hot sauce) I should be back on the hopper in no time!

Check back soon for more exciting tales of excrement!

Close Call

I feel a little unfulfilled right now. I squeezed out a few small nuggets, but they were harder than I had expected. It felt like they were scraping against my anal walls along the right side, but I was relieved to see that there was no blood on the toilet paper during the wipe.

I hope I can get the rest of this batch out before lunch time, or else I'm not gonna be very hungry.

Cherry Bombs

Here is an important bit of advice:

If you ever have to drop a double at the Cherry Hill Mall, just hold it in until you get home. Or else crap your pants. Whatever you've gotta do. But DO NOT press your cheeks atop the toilets in the food court men's room. Trust me. I may have to go to therapy to get over last night.