The Poo Logs: Volume 11

Poo Log #1: Supa stupid poo story

Quandell dingleberry | California, USA | April 13, 1944

Back in the 40's, I worked as a Mickey Mouse mascot at Disneyland. During one of my shift, I felt a sharp pain in my butt and pooed in the costume. Today, you can still see a brown stain on one of the Mickey Mouse suits.

Poo Log #2: Hot dogs, massage chair, and diarrhea edging

Chief Editor of the Poo Journal | Dildo, Newfoundland and Labrador | September 13, 2026

It was customer appreciation week at my favourite furniture store, Dion’s Furniture Warehouse. Free hot dogs were promised to all attendees, so naturally, my attendance was non-negotiable. When I arrived at Dion’s, I immediately proceeded to a tent erected outside the entrance, where a Dion’s employee served me two hot dogs. The dogs were small and barely cooked. Notwithstanding the wimpiness of the wieners, I carefully carried the pathetic excuses for frankfurters inside the store where I planned to eat them in peace on one of the sofas in the showroom. 

About 30 seconds later, the crudely chewed hot dogs were resting safely in my gut. After that, I walked around the showroom and decided to test out a massage chair. It was one of those expensive massage chairs that has individual slots for each leg. The shiatsu stimulation was strong. So strong that it facilitated movement in my gut. Perhaps scarfing down two hot dogs right before the massage was not a good idea. Just when I thought it was time for a bathroom break, the leg slots in the chair suddenly tightened around my legs like a blood-pressure cuff, leaving my legs completely immobilized. At the same time, two adjustable shoulder flaps rotated downward, pinning my torso to the chair. While I was fully restrained, the chair entered into an intense massage cycle targeting my lower back. The intensity was so strong that it caused severe distress in my gut. Unfortunately, I could not escape the painful pleasure of this massage-chair mistress. All I could do was try my best not to soil myself. I “diarrhea edged” for as long as my willpower allowed, but the massage-chair mistress got the best of me. 

The diarrhea caused irreparable damage to the electrical system of the chair. Fortunately, since it was customer appreciation week, I saved 20% when I was forced by security to reimburse Dion’s for the damaged goods.