A tribute to Borat from Kazakhstan

For all you Ali G fans out there (all three of you), you might be familiar with the great man Borat from Kazakhstan, and possibly even some of his greatest feats in life! Well I'm about to talk about a bit of a tangent from one of Borat's episodes, and it revolves around bowel movements, of all joyous topics. So if you are not interested in bowel movements, and in particular - mine - then there is no point in reading this article.....seriously........stop now........two words.. NO GOOD!

So there I was at work today, and I'd had a surprisingly good steak last night, which if you know my bowel movements, you'd know that it's the most effective mechanism for having a few quality trips to the good ole WC, if the word 'quality' can really even be attributed to such visits. So I'm sitting at work, doing something of unimaginable importance (no doubt) and the stomach rumbled a bit. Now this wasn't one of those, 'reckon some food would be handy soon' types of rumble, this was a fully fledged, 'run for cover because there's one helluva eruption about to take place' variety. You've heard of Krakatoa? You get the message?!

So I casually sprint to the toilet screaming 'TALL GUY COMING THROUGH' and if there'd been a crowd before me, they would have parted...no doubt whatsoever. I get to the toilet and one cubicle is taken, and I'm facing my first dilemma! What if the person in the cubicle is someone of importance? Surely I'll be deported, shot or sacked at the very least once things get out of hand....and then it starts! You know when you have a good old fashion GUSHER, and it's just squirting out, and all you can do is hold on for dear life? You know you're making a mess, but given that the options are a) mess and b) death, you're somewhat unkempt at the end, but if the directional targetting is OK, then it shouldn't be that bad....right?!

After a few agonizing seconds, I thought of gushing oil wells from 'Dallas' and then things settled, or at least I hoped they had. But like everything, there are rules to these things, and if you screw with the rules, bad things happened. Being the impaired muppet that I am, I reached for the toilet paper, thinking it was over, and before I had even torn off the paper to fold (yes, I fold, I'm not a 'scruncher') the Gods of Bowel Movements were there with me, mocking me openly and giving me a taste (figuratively speaking, of course) of their true power. Now before I go on any further here, I want you to think about the following....

When guys take a snake's hiss, they sometimes count to see how long it goes for (don't deny it lads, you know you do) particularly if it's going to go on for 20 seconds or so. I'm not sure if women do this, it's one of the great mysteries, though I'm bound to endeavour to seek the answer to it next time I'm out!

Ok, so with the aforementioned paragraph in the bank, consider this...after a 'few' seconds of the secondary I was curious as to how long it would 'last' because it didn't seem it was going to cease any time soon, so I commenced the count. Now I understand the scientific methodology behind accurate time-keeping, so I stuck to the fundamentals....

One-one thousand...
Two-one thousand...
Three-one thousand...
.......
Sixteen-one thousand.... (What the fk??)
.......
Twenty-two one thousand....

WHOAH!!! Keep in mind this was one continual stream, this wasn't me involved in coitus (because I know you'd call my bluff on the longevity), this was me taking a dump.

AND THIS WAS ONLY ROUND TWO!!!!

Round three lasted 15 seconds, and rounds 4-16 inclusive were very sporadic, and I wasn't too thorough in my recording here, because I'd already captured enough data......

If I were academically inclined, I'd dig up some information on the average bowel capacity, but I'm willing to give up this quest and just assume the worst. Either I've got one of the largest bowel's on the planet, or I'm full of shit.

In the words of the immortal great, Borat (in his etiquette episode), "I had a good shit!"