Once in a while just when you think life has become pretty with bouncy continuity and flawless punctuations it just dumps a load on your right shoulder.
So saturday was work, turned out alright after i warned one clients husband to not rest his head on his wifes stomach "if you do i may elbow you in the head" and there was the weird white girl who has faint white facial hair, wants to find an indian boyfriend .
"they so hard to come by cos they marry when they're in their 20's. i got hundreds of bollywood movies. i wish i was indian"
Look missy, no you don't want to be some indian woman languishing in a caste system that puts cow dung in a higher position than you carrying buckets of brown soot water for washing and cooking banging on some empty jam tin for a few coins from fat german tourists.

And then i went home.

I didn't go out clubbing ... i just stayed at home saturday bored..watched little britain and some free porn. Even the cum shot was uninspiring made me think, "what do porn stars talk about?" so i applied some fake tan .
You know, sex in porn is never how it is in real life if it was 100minutes of it would be just sleeping.
I remember one time i said to an ex "but you're itallian" when he went to sleep after only an hours sex session, "it's only been an hour and you're itallian"
All i wanted to to was go out shopping afterwards.
I remember one african-american (what's the correct term these days) sailor i had when i was much younger, "wow it's all fuzzy down there too"
He was fantastic. Most probably married now with 3 kids.
And that aussie guy who lived in the western suburbs, omg he was big, porno size but he was abit cheesey down there.
Anyway lets not get into my sex life or we could be here for hours...months.. years....
I woke this morning feeling very unwell, dizzy, worse than a heavy night out . I sat round, messenger with andrew to see when i could go over for coffee and then in a fraction of a moment i felt something wanting to leave my bowels. As you well know a morning fart is nothing peculiar other than a build up of gases in the bowel that needs to be released for if we did not has gas,methane in it's character, then life would not be audiomentry.
And so without even thinking of what and how ... i just let my body release it's capture as i continued typing away but this time, it wasn't merely vapor.

I felt odd, a certain type of wetness which spread from one tiny exit point to the edges of my buttocks.
Oh , i thought, what have we got here ... i stood up and to my horror and unexplained mirth i realised i had shitted myself.
Now, i understand my dear reader it may repulse you and to be eating a chocolate eclair whilst you have read to this point may cause some physiological reaction but i can assure you, i was most shocked and appalled, whilst giggling at the flourecentness of the newly born.

With the dawning of my excretion i had to take my pants off and then wipe myself with great indignation.
I don't know about you but i don't have toilet paper in my bedroom as i rarely if never go to toilet in my bedroom for it is the domain for slumber however i needed to clean myself before i can actually put new pants on so i can take dirty pants to the laundry. But i didn't have any toilet paper because...it's in the toilet.
In a panic heightened by the fact i had pooped my pants and its remnants slowly dripping down my thigh i had to act quickly so i reached for a sketch pad and used the very high quality A3 sketch paper to clean myself.

A3 sketch paper doesn't flush very well.

Infact it wouldn't flush and i had to take it out of the toilet bowl, wring it.. then take it out to the rubbish bin.

Coffee was cancelled, i had a shower and went back to bed. An hour later i felt something bite my toes, then my fingers, then my neck, then my tummy. It was a tiny ant.
I killed it and went back to sleep.
Minute later i felt something biting my arm, no it's not a cigar, no smoking in bed remember.... it was another ant.
Killed it.
I got up and looked round, there was a trail of tiny tiny ants marching along my antique chinese table to the window edge carrying bits of dust. DUST?, DUST, DUST?,DUST....
So i sprayed them and their little lazy-susan entry into my bedroom with insecticide.
Now i couldn't sleep.

Mum made curry noodles for lunch, i just sat at the dining table staring.