My shit stinks!

Yup, I never thought I'd have to admit it. But my shit done stink! And when I say stink, I mean sti-fucking-ink.

I'm on this new diet. A medically supervised, very low calorie diet, that is comprised mainly of high protein/low fat shakes, and whatever else you can figure out to do with the dry shake powder and an egg white or two. Yeah, yeah, yeah...I don't need to know what you think of it. Cause I'm loosing weight and my labs are good. The point here is...My shit stinks. Something akin to rotten eggs...Gone bad. And then concentrated. And then double that.

And naturally (ha), anything else that comes out of my anal sphincter reeks as well. I pitty my office mates. Because my bowels have gone toxic. Yes dear readers, my farts could blow you out of the room. For god sake, I can't even fart in my own car because it nauseates me, and it's too damn cold to open the windows!!!

Now, my Mama brought me up as a lady. And ladies, never, ever, pass gas in public. So, I wouldn't normally have to worry about my coworkers, because I'd let the top of my head blow off before I would rip one in public. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost some sphincter control, because they keep slipping out on me. Thankfully I'm close to the bathroom, so I try my best to contain it to that 6x6 space. But did I mention that the stench lingers? Actually, it's not only the stench that lingers, the damn shit is the stickiest shit I've ever had. It clings to the bowl. Even the required "double flush" doesn't seem to cut it. I apologize profusely to the poor fool who enters after me.

Take the hint! If the fan is still going...Better to risk the men's room!

Funny thing though.. dear, dear TB still feels he needs to be with me every time I'm in the bathroom. Perhaps his sense of smell is compromised along with his other sensory processing issues. And that, my child, is a good thing.