[m i a o w] the cat

M and my friend E are the people in my life that muse upon poo. E will relate enthusiastically about the time she nearly blocked a Sydney toilet with the worlds most unflushable borry stonker, while M can sit playing the guitar for hours working the word ‘poo’ into every song. It was not something I really participated in until now, and obviously, I went immediately to E for advice.

“Prune juice,” she told me, “Half a glass with some hot water in it and a squeeze of lemon.”

“Ah ha!” I thought, “Another way for me to try and eat fruit. Good.”

M, sick of my whinging, went out to the supermarket in his beloved new set of wheels and came back with six one litre bottles of 100% prune juice. I looked at them, and they sat there complacently. Similar to what was happening with my internal organs. Personally I didn’t think half a glass of this stuff was going to get my problem anywhere near fixed, so I tossed back two glasses… and then spent the night with my insides feeling like some gaseous mud swamp. And that was it.

Yesterday, M had some prune juice with his breakfast, and returned twelve hours later looking hunted.

“I think you’re right,” he said [how I love hearing that phrase]. “I was using power tools and had my mask and headphones on, but I could tell that the prune juice had got to me, because I could feel my butt making sharp guttural barking noises. About ten minutes later I stopped work, took off my mask and almost passed out from the swamp smell.”

I was rolling on the floor. “But DID YOU POO?”

He looked thoughtful. “No, no I didn’t. My butt just started acting like some choked up outboard motor.”

I forgave him the the inevitable boat analogy [excuse me for the pun] and delicately indicated that this, indeed, was what had happened to me. Although my butt was a Tohatsu 2.5 horsepower, while his sounded more like a Yahmaha 40. Regardless of this, it seems that E has a special relationship with the juice of the prune that others are sadly unable to replicate. And so it’s back to lots of water and some black coffee.

BROWSE / IN TIMELINE
« Tres Excitement. A boat shape!
» Background tinkering

BROWSE / IN PartyPie Trailer Life
« Trailer Grand Final - Classy stuff!
» Mester Trine

COMMENTS / 6 COMMENTS

Licorice does it for me. Every time.

Better yet - its low fat and tasty!

Well, if you like licorice that is.

pixelkitty typed this on Oct 03 07 at 2:25 pm

I eat almost everything, except licorice, mangos and the abomination that is parsnip. I think I could hack the red licorice though… it’s the aniseed I can’t stand. Which means that I also hate ouzo too.

beth typed this on Oct 03 07 at 2:50 pm

Apricots and other fruits sprayed with sulphur dioxide as a preservative (220) in high enough doses, has the same effect on me.
The bacteria in my intestines feast on the stuff I can’t digest because of it.

I learnt from a study that sampled poo from newborns that it can take 6 months after taking anti-biotics for the flora and flauna in their intestines to regroup. And they changed over time based on what they fed em.

Those emissions mean industry must be flourishing.

Craig typed this on Oct 04 07 at 3:51 pm

Yeah - I have the same response to dried apricots. Keep meaning to try the organic ones, which look strangely distasteful, because without the sulphur, they’re black.

I recently read about some CSIRO research which involved strapping methane/solar things to cows… and then there are anti-emission injections…

b:p typed this on Oct 04 07 at 4:01 pm