Wherein is a discussion of the perfectly natural and necessary evacuation of semi-solid waste matter from one’s anus:

The Ghost Poo:
The kind where you feel poo come out, see poo on the toilet paper, but there’s no poo in the bowl.

The Clean Poo:
The kind where you feel poo come out, see poo in the bowl, but there’s no poo on the toilet paper.

The Wet Poo:
You wipe your arse fifty times and it still feels unwiped. So you end up putting toilet paper between your arse and your underwear so you don’t ruin them with those dreadful skid marks.

The Second Wave Poo:
This poo happens when you think you’ve finished, your pants are up to your knees, and you suddenly realize you have to poo some more.

The Brain-Hemorrahage-Through-Your-Nose Poo:
You have to strain so much to get it out that you turn purple and practically have a stroke.

The Corn Poo:
No explanation necessary.

The Lincoln Log Poo:
The kind of poo that’s so enormous you’re afraid to flush it down without first breaking it up into little pieces with the toilet brush.

The notorious Drinker’s Poo:
The kind of poo you have the morning after a long night of drinking. Its most noticeable trait is the tread mark left on the bottom of the toilet bowl after you flush.

The “Gee-I-really-wish-I-could� Poo:
The kind where you want to poo, but even after straining your guts out, all you can do is sit on the toilet, cramped and farting.

The Power Dump Poo:
The kind that comes out with the destructive force of 12 pounds of C-4, leaving you sitting in a pile of shattered porcelain and blood, wondering who bombed your house.

The “Where’s The F___ing Plumber?â€? Poo:
This kind of poo is so big it plugs up the toilet and it overflows all over the floor. You should have followed the advice from the Lincoln Log Poo.

The Spinal Tap Poo:
The kind of shit that hurts so much coming out, you’d swear it’s got to be coming out sideways.

The “I-think-I’m-giving-birth-through-my-arseâ€? Poo:
Similar to the Lincoln Log and The Spinal Tap Poos. The shape and size of the turd resembles a tall-boy beer can. Vacuous air space remains in the rectum for some time afterwards.

The Porridge Poo:
The type that comes out like toothpaste, and just keeps on coming. You have two choices: (a) flush and keep going, or (b) risk it piling up to your butt while you sit there, helpless.

The “I’m-going-to-chew-my-food-betterâ€? Poo:
When the bag of tortilla chips you ate last night lacerates the insides of your rectum on the way out in the morning.

The “I-think-I’m-turning-into-a-bunnyâ€? Poo:
When you drop lots of cute, little round ones that look like marbles and make tiny splishy sounds when they hit the water.

The “I-just-know-it’s-still-dangling-there� Poo:
Where you just sit there patiently and wait for the last cling-on to drop off because if you wipe now, it’s going to smear all over the place.

The “What-the-hell-died-in-here� Poo:
Also sometimes referred to as The Toxic Dump. Of course you don’t warn anyone of the poisonous bathroom odour. Instead, you stand innocently near the door and enjoy the show as they run out a-gagging and a-gasping for air.