Why can't I have a crap in peace?
My kids have got dump radar. Or something.
It seems every time I sit on the bog to have a crap either Callan or Briony will come in. "Dad! I need a wee!"
Now, I'm not one to rush having a dump. What's required is a magazine, or a book, and 5 minutes peace and quiet. Is it too much to ask?
"Can't you wait? I'm having a poo here".
"Aw, Dad, I'm desperate"
Fuck's sake. I've got to wipe my arse, and stand about, pants around my ankles until they're done and then try and continue. But the moment is lost, that zen moment when its just me, my arse, the pan and this month's Chasseur Francais.
To make it worse, whenever any of my family come into the bathroom when I'm mid dump (like, which is always) they then hassle me about the smell.
"Poo, Dad, that stinks" or my wife's favorite quote from The Young Ones - "Cor, I can't breathe that, I'm a vegetarian!"
Look. Your shit stinks too.
I say to my wife, "You know why my shit smells?"
"Why?" she asks, expecting some scientific link between Y-chromosomes and the activity of bacteria in the colon.
"Because it's SHIT. And it comes out of my ARSE". Dammit shit is supposed to smell. Everybody's shit stinks. It's bad enough having your dump time interupted without also carrying the burden of allegedly being the smelliest man in Europe.
Euphamisms for having a shit:
having a dump
laying a cable
having a dump
parking a coil
laying the brown eggs of spite
build a log cabin
blind dirt snake
Richard the Third
check out the roast
light a bum cigar
See more at The Profanisaurus. Since Viz has released it as a book it is inaccessible at their site.
An definition that made me spew my tea:
biffon n. That part of the female anatomy between the bottom and the vagina, which the man's balls biff on during intercourse.