The Christmas Log or the post long haul flight shit?
This question vexes me; I am unsure if I am honest, which provides greater pleasure. Is it the pushing, squeezing and passing of an object so glorious sometimes it seems a shame to flush it. Is it a sculpture that should instead be placed in our art galleries of personal excess—a tribute to the wealth of a western salary? Or does the release caused by eight or nine hours of pressurization working on a stomach fueled by business class food and drink service and inactivity, further churned by the aspirin you pop every four hours to avoid deep vein thrombosis. The product is very similar, again often lightly speckled with sweet corn and cashews, firm, yet moist and the relief equally orgasmic. Which thing of beauty provides the greater Joy to you, gives you a greater sense of freedom and restores balance and order in your life? As someone much smarter than me once said, life is not a puzzle to understand it is like indigestion from many good meals relieved by the opportunity the clear your bowels every so often... Hang on, perhaps that was me, I am getting so old I forget.