Fee, fi, poo, poo

 

I have been so bored lately that I couldn’t stop consuming fat.  This holocaust has taken up most of my idle moments, say, at work while procrastinating.  My friends keep on nudging me with the skype hype, the latest stiletto bonanza in Beirut Complex, the Disney flick UP, etc. etc. etc., but I leaned towards food…and food’s byproduct which is (excuse me) poop.  And I’m with it now, gearing me up with an indescribable sensation only I could decipher.  So before my father shows up with his “Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the stench of a wandering potty. Be she constipated, or be she doomed, I’ll grind her bones before her stool!”, here is the story.  The biography of doo-doos.