Unexpected evening poo.

Following a lovely meal of quail eggs, rabbit casserole and lashings of ice cream floats, I show what puts the ass in casserole by having a very solid evening excretion.

I weigh a very respectable 197.6lbs.

================
I am having a poo
================

195.6lbs eh? Anyway, I have guests so I must go . . .

Have a lovely evening and please, be excellent to one another.

Indian!

Yesterday was a splendid day.

In the morning we went to the recycling centre and I got a couple of old wooden and brass fishing rods, which I then bastardised into a single short imitation of a rod for my eldest daughter's ballet exam. I have also made a jamjar on a string, but that is much less impressive.

Later on we went for lunch at our vegan friends' new house (they have names and more defining features than their eating habits, but I don't know how they might feel about me using their real names) which involved wraps and falafels, which always makes my Lordship happy.

We went to the park for some football and a play on the swings and then back to ours for Indian, with Tinium and Matthewparker and the rest of the gang.

Following such rich food (and it was hot in places, we had two crying episodes and only one from a child) you'd have to expect a good day today.

I weigh 194.4lbs.

=================
I am having a poo
=================

That was hard work. I weigh 193.4lbs. I'm surprised it was so heavy to be honest. Not often that Indian cuisine makes one constipated, but there you go.

As I write this I feel the need for a repeat visit. I weigh 192.1lbs. Bear with me, I'll be right back.

=================
I am having a poo
=================

Well, that was far more in keeping with a curry. I am a mere 190lbs. My ideal weight, no less.

I have two rabbits and a dozen quail eggs. I am not yet sure what I shall cook.

Feeling better, but not well.

But at least I am writing my own blog this morning.

And what a lovely morning it is too.

I have been really rather unwell and have been eating plenty to be sure that I have enough fuel. As a result I weigh a massive 197lbs.

=================
I am having a poo
=================

193.4lbs, eh? My poo size is going up recently, but I cannot be bothered with the charts at the moment, due to illness.

Here is a picture of a tank:

Still ill but a huge poo.

Not better yet, but 197.2lbs down to 190.9lbs is worthy of comment.

Certainly Manley could be heard to croak that he'd 'done a 6.3lb poo' before he had to rest again.

He seemed a little over-excited by this.

-----------------

I am Manley. I am ill. I like this animation.

Manley is ill.

Manley is really ill. We don't know what it is but he collapsed and is now dizzy and nauseous.

If I didn't know better I'd say that he had been drinking, but I do know better.

Manley can not fill out his own blog posts, so you have a guest blogger in the form of me, his wife, and a photograph of the scatology board with today's weights on.

Slow day

A quick poo this morning, bringing me from 193.4lbs down to 192.2lbs, and a nice picture courtesy of Steef:

Spot the leecher, Dylan stylee.

More fun with leechers today. See if you can spot the leeched images in these two sites:

• This one is a poo
• This one is goatse related
• Best of the lot, includes words 'absolute hammer willy'


• [NEW!: more ebay madness

UPDATE: looks like hammer willy has gone down - so here's a screengrab:



Since quite a lot of you won't give a rat's arse, here's a couple of Bob Dylan videos:



And, from Rick Astley himself, a tirade of abuse at Dylan's proported weaknesses compared to other artists:

2lb but, thankfully, not 5'

The disaster rears its ugly head again.

I got to sleep just before 6 this morning, so I am feeling bleary and far from awake and I forgot about the scales.

Oh workaday disasters compounding into a faecal tract of hate! Woe is me.

The battery is flat and I am backing up something chronic. Where oh where can I find a CR2032 battery at this time on a Tuesday?

-----------------------

Joy! My motherboard uses a CR2032! I am able to weigh myself at 193lbs precisely. The relief is tangible.

=================
I am having a poo
=================

191lbs, on the button. Another potential faecal compaction abated, and just in the nick of time, too.

Birds and bees.

My 6 year old just asked "how does the seed get from there, below your willey" at this point she coyly gestures towards my groin "into Mummy's bits to make the baby and the placenta?"
"Well, what have men got that women haven't got?" I enquired.
"A smaller hole, down there."
"Which on a man is in his . . ."
"His willy. So the seed comes out of your willy?"
"Yes, the seed comes out of my willy." This is made no easier by Jim crying with silent laughter and the middle girl in TEAM MANLEY calmly listening in and eating a Müller yoghurt.
"But how do you get it into Mummy?"
"Well, I put my willy into mummy."

"EUGH! You put your willy in mummy's bits? Thats DISGUSTING!"

I am a proud father =;¬)

DISASTER!

There is no greater gift a man can give than his life.

I'm guessing that the same does not apply to scales.

After some investigation it appears that Eleanor Precious kicked our scales brutally and without warrant on Friday. One can only speculate as to why one would be angry with a set of scales, but it has to be weight related. (In fairness, I cannot imagine Ellie having a problem with her weigh, she's floaty light).

Either way, I am glad that I had a pre-bath poo this morning, which took me from 194.4lbs down to 193.1lbs. I'll just have to hold out for the day here and miss my normal mid-morning evacuation.

In other news, I went to visit Mr Dagnall for a barbecue yesterday and arrived to the pleasant surprise that Matthewparker was already there, but the unpleasant greeting of a shower of human effluent raining upon me from the jet-washer in the septic tank.

It appears that the sewage had backed up to a disastrous level and begun flowing out onto the lawn and clearing blocked drains is not beyond the expertise of the men. Of course rodding was out of the question, since the screw fell off in the tank. We boys and my girls had our barbecue and threw various garden paraphernalia into the tree to knock down conkers (at one stage we had a broom, a rake, a garden light, two lashing straps and a 4' long, 8" diameter log wedged in there.

The ladies chose to remain indoors with their respective babies, which may well have been less fun, but certainly involved less poo.