Thoughts from the Pot: Fiberman & the Battle for the Throne

“Thoughts from the Pot” are the random musings of a husband. The thoughts and opinions presented below are not necessarily those of the host of this blog. Thank you for your understanding. Content Warning: The following story contains potty language and disturbing euphemisms. Reader discretion is advised. Read it; it’s funny.

In the true form of “Thoughts From the Pot,” I will now relay a poo story. If that makes you feel a bit squeamish, just know that I will treat this topic with Victorian sensitivity and utmost respect for the delicate, flower-like readers of this blog.

courtesy of gardenblog.com

I wish this story was about me. However, I don’t possess the minerals to take things into my own hands (well-placed pun) the way that the man in this story did.

To make any character relatable, that character needs a name; we will call our protagonist (or antagonist, depending on how funny you think poop is) “Fiberman.”

A strong and handsome man, with a lantern jaw and country sensibilities; Fiberman owns large knives, wears plaid, but looks good in a suit. He is the owner of many leather-bound books, and his apartment smells of rich mahogany.

courtesy of Squidoo

It was time to meet the parents. Fiberman’s beautiful young girlfriend had decided that he was worthy to take home for her brothers to check his teeth and make sure he didn’t play Dungeons and Dragons.

Fiberman and Beautiful Young Girlfriend (my names are awesome! So descriptive!)  took a long flight. They ate delicious airport food, and Fiberman mentally prepared himself for his meeting with The Family.

They meet! They Eat! They Frolic in the Sun! Everything is going so well!

courtesy of girlfridays.org

Fiberman he is a patient man  and knows the limitations of his body. He is very aware of the storm brewing in his core. He has rumblies in his tumblies. The time of reckoning is drawing nigh. The unholy trinity of airport coffee, Burger King and the delightful seafood dinner Mom of Beautiful Young Girlfriend had prepared could only be ignored for a short while. The bells were ringing! The Piper Must Be Paid!

He waited until The Family was distracted by the fireflies and croquet in the soft green grass; then hastened to the loo. Fiberman made his peace with God and created a grunt sculpture, which would have aroused the jealousy of the Masters.

courtesy of happehtheory.com

He filled out the necessary paperwork (which is a delightful euphemism for wiping his bottom) and flushed the toilet. While washing his hands, he looked over to make sure all of the vestiges of his masterpiece had been erased; they were not. Seated in its porcelain throne, the mighty king refused to be deposed. “NONE SHALL PASS!”

courtesy of ringtrilogy.tripod.com

Fiberman’s hands began to sweat. They would surely have noticed his absence by now. Grunt sculptures take time. They were going to make JOKES! He thanked the Maker this house had more than one bathroom. Time slowed; Fiberman could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He flushed the toilet. He flushed again. He flushed a fourth time. Not a wiggle; panic set in.

His options were clear, his path split in twain; he could either leave the hulking meat biscuit for someone else, or he could reach in and destroy it, so that it would descend to its watery grave.

“I CURSE YOU, FOUL STINK DEMON, TO THE WATERY DEPTHS OF THIS SEPTIC SYSTEM! GO! GO! GO AND NEVER RETURN!”

He walked to the sink with his hands out, like a surgeon. As he washed, he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes searching in vain for the man who used to be there. The old Fiberman was gone. There was now a new man, one willing to do what needed to be done. He knew that he was capable of so much more  than he could ever have imagined. He was no longer a boy, he was a man.

The color drained from Fiberman’s face as he related this last part of the story to me; beads of sweat formed on his upper lip. A story that could cause this kind of emotional response had to be told. These are the generational stories; that grandkids tell about grandparents. These are what dreams are made of (just to be clear, dreams are made of stories, not poo — that would be gross) and how traditions are created.

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36 thoughts on “Thoughts from the Pot: Fiberman & the Battle for the Throne

  1. This is hilarious… and gross… and hilarious! Love it! (I am a man after all).

    I too have a story similar to that, except I’m easily disgusted and it involved a “toilet overfloweth” and remains escaping ship. Let’s just leave it at that. :D

    Great post!!!!

  2. There is a scene very similar to this in Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom. Now I see why Melissa was hesistant to post this. But, still VERY funny.

      • You’re gonna have to read Freedom, Josh! I’ll be posting about it soon…but, in the book one of characters accidentally swallows his wedding ring while traveling. He has to dig through his doo when he’s in a foreign country. It was downright disgusting, but also an amazing allegory to life.

      • Like I just told Josh, I’ll be posted about the book soon. It was apparently touted as the “book of the decade”, so I “HAD” to read it. So hard to read things for my blog, so hard. :P

  3. LOVE this post. Hilarious and reminds me of a story from my family lore of the police coming to my aunt’s house because my uncle had a BM. Yes family lore is wonderful! ;)

      • Unfortunately I was not there…My aunt was hosting Christmas at her house with most of the extended family in from out of town. From what I was told, my uncle (not my aunt’s husband, but her brother) was being silly while my aunt ran an errand. He hit a few buttons on the alarm key pad and then after his silliness subsided, needed a pit stop….Well, while he was doing his duty, the police show up. He some how had set off a silent alarm of some sort. My aunt came home in time to give the appropriate all clear word to the police officer, but we joke about needing the police to help said uncle with his BMs.

  4. That is quite a dilemma. My first inclination is to let it sit and hope the water somehow softens it, but that isn’t really an option at someone else’s home…

  5. LOL, ok, I’m new to Melissa’s blog here, but this is hilarious. I see there are other ‘thoughts from the pot’ – I’ll have to check them out. For a second there I thought she was writing this, haha. How unfortunate that Beautiful Young Girlfriend’s parents didn’t possess a mighty plunger to deal with the mighty king, lol.

  6. Ahem….the juxtaposition of the husband’s poo story within the wife’s lovely website is found to be somewhat disconcerting. Remember the adage …if you have to resort to poo jokes and worse stuff (no matter the flowery euphemisms)– you’ll be a big hit on primetime TV! Sad…money isn’t everything you know. NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM!! LOL, Not dead yet!

    • Haha! Thanks for worrying about me. :) However, I knew when I married your son that I was committing to love him; poo stories and all. I’ll make sure he takes a time out though, to make his mama happy.

  7. I seriously felt a lack, all week.
    I couldn’t remember what I had forgotten.
    Tonight, while perusing tweets, I saw Melissa’s face, and it hit me.
    I had forgotten to remember Thoughts from the Pot.
    As always, completely sorry I read all this.
    Which is to say, brilliant work.
    I would have made up some story about the bathroom doorknob refusing to unlock for a while, hence the sweat caked on your body, since you had to pull the door off the hinges with your bare fingers.
    Or, with the number of people who are allergic to seafood, a bright shining lie about passing out in the bathroom floor would have worked.
    Or simply – depending on your level of confidence – a brash, honest proclamation: “I produced such a prodigously magnificent masterpiece that it wouldn’t even flush!”

    • “As always, completely sorry I read all this.”

      Haha!! I think that’s the general consensus. :) Your additions are disgusting…and perfect. I have a feeling I will be hearing the words “prodigiously magnificent masterpiece” from my husband’s lips.

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