June was a pretty slow month for me in terms of poop. It seems I was constipated for most of the month, and it didn’t end until today. The month started out with two weeks of goat turds. After that episode I had a few normal logs, but a week later I was getting backed up again. I couldn’t poop for the last three days, but it felt like I really needed to go. You know when you get really constipated, and it feels like you have a mango at the tip of your bunghole, and it wants to escape your butthole so badly, and you push and push and nothing comes out, and you sit on the toilet for 30 minutes pushing as hard as you can, and you start sweating all over and then a vein starts throbbing in your forehead, but still no poop has come out even though it feels like it’s right at the rim, and if you could just time the pushing intervals right, it’ll come out, but then you do time it right and something the size of a grape falls out into the toilet instead of that mango? Yeah, that totally sucks. I did this on Saturday and Sunday morning. No logs. Just a lot of pushing out a couple unsatisfactory goat turds here and there, with the pressure of a five pound turd still pressing on my rectum. I was really uncomfortable for most of Sunday. Eating dinner became a task because I was so bloated and it felt like I needed to poop even though I couldn’t. But around 10pm Sunday night just as I was getting into the shower I farted, and it felt like something else might blow out with the fart. So I jumped out of the shower and onto my toilet, and something glorious happened. I pooped. A lot. And damn it hurt, but it hurt so good. (Thank you, clam chowder I had for dinner.)