so today, while I'm standing in the living room debating whether or not Laundry or Dishes will get done first, I get the urge to fart. I live alone, so sweet. I let the honk loose and its wrong. Something just sounded wrong. I know my own wind, and I have never farted a sound that sounded like a fart wrapped in a pillow. Oh yes, something was very wrong. I had just shat myself. But this evil olean makes shitting yourself sound almost like a regular fart, and had I not been particularly attentive, it could easily have gone unnoticed, I'm telling you. THAT's how utterly covert and evil this olean stuff is. What the fuck?! What if I'd gone out to hang with friends or gone for a drive, what then? So I walk carefully to the bathroom and disrobe. before I even sit on the toilet, I wad paper and carefully wipe from the front. Sure enough, it was light brown, and had the texture of soft spackle. You fucking Pringle bastards. I sat down and pushed a bit, and lo, out came a jet that I didnt even feel an urge for one minute earlier. It piled in the bowl like brown marshmallow fluff. The problem rose when I tried to wipe. I went through a whole fucking roll of TP and could not get it all off me. So. I jumped in the shower. Yep, its gross, but it had to be done. There I stood, water pouring down, cheeks spread, and using my own hand to make certain I'm clean. That was when I discovered that after using my hand to wipe myself (before I soaped the area) my hand came back covered in some sort of transparent grease. It was so fucking foul. The grease made water bead off my hand. It was tacky too, and very difficult to manage. So I grabbed the bar of soap and went to work.
