Turd Flush
Once, when I was seven or eight years old, I crapped a turd that had a face on it.
No, seriously.
I looked down into the bowl, and my turd had a weird little face on it, staring up at me.
In the lunch room the next day, I told everyone about the turd face I’d seen the previous evening. But the other kids just laughed. They didn’t believe me that I’d crapped out a turd with a face on it.
But now I have proof. My childhood turd grew up to be a club going slut-hott fondling log of fecal matter formed into Golem-like human corporeal form.
I’m still figuring out how it survived the flushing process, though. Maybe it’s like that old b-movie Alligator. Flush it away, only to have it return to haunt us all.
Sorry, world. I had no idea it would survive the flush.
