Thursday, January 12, 2012

Ghost PAG

As anyone who reads this blog for more than four entries would know I have issues when it comes to number twos. I have slow motility which means, basically, I take twice as long to push through and process food as a normal person. Thus typically my entrails are full of shit and I am enduring and/or suffering discomfort from both constipation and abdominal fluctuations and spasms. It's all very painful, embarrasing, and annoying. It also means I tend to have a glum face, wince a fair amount, and clutch my guts like a woman who hasn't felt the baby move in a couple of hours.

So it's rare when I actually do a normal bowel movement. So rare in fact that the other day, when I did one, whilst perched on our medically heightened toilet—we had to put a booster to raise the level of the toilet up so my hips don't bend more than 90 degrees while I recover from the hip operation—I gave an air punch of triumph. A punch somewhat undercut by my toes dangling above the tiles. 

My delightful guts doctor—an enthusiastic Kiwi specialist—said that the aim of number twos is to produce what's known in the defecation trade as a 'lovely log'. Which, by my reckoning, is a 3.5 on the Bristol Stool Scale. When producing said lovely log this should also result in a feeling of comfort and emptiness at a successfully passed super stool. This event, and accompanying feelings of relief, I term PAG (1).

This morning I had PAG. Well, at least, I think so. The stain and stress of the bowel motion itself felt like an effort ranging from 3-4 on the scale was happening downstairs, and there was instant relief when it was over. I am a poo-looker (2), in that I always check my leavings (and that they're flushed away when the button is pressed—I do not wish to inflict a floater on the person after me). So I looked. 

It was gone. 

Yes the power of the poo was such that with kinetic energy from the drop it had driven itself around the S-bend and robbed me of the satisfaction of confirming its presumed 'lovely log' and PAG-spawning status.

So ... in the event where visual confirmation cannot be made, but all other evidence suggests PAG success, ... I will adapt the PAG assignation to include the sub-field of Ghost PAG (3).

Ghost PAG-est. 2012.   

(1)  PAG—an acronym standing for Poo After Glow. It makes me feel like Father Pio when I do experience such delight as I practically glow in a beatific manner afterwards. Fuck, I could probably heal small animals like Assisi or the little bald kid from The Golden Child (1a)
(1a) Just how disgusting is that bowl of porridge with the liquid blood beneath the oatmeal crust? Also if a film ever needed a George Lucas style CGI ret-conning it's that one. The Golden Child a truly awesome movie but the stop-start animation of the demon looks dreadfully lame. They should re-cut that scene then re-release the movie. It stands the test of time and it's chock-block full of awesome quotable Eddie Murphy moments—'I'm going to paddle your ass!' etc.  
(2) Did you know you can replace the words 'Day Tripper' in the Beatles song of the same name with the words 'Poo Looker'? And precede to change other lyrics to reflect the change in theme? e.g. Poo looker ... always looking at poo. You can't help it, look at poo, look at poo. Do ... do do do do dah do do do do etc.
(3) Much like the Illusionist is a subclass of Magic User first edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. I am up to about page 50 of The Player' Handbook, with one of my five copies of that tome (3a) next to the exercise bike for me to flip through while the lap top boots up.  Holy shit that book needed some editing. I can see now the sheer editing challenge it was to re-boot first ed to second ed. If you're a gamer who also likes to peel the vinyl back to see how gaming evolved I cannot stress enough how awesome this book is; 30 Years of Adventure: A Celebration of Dungeons & Dragons.
(3a) I suffer from acute nostalgia. In the manner a cat lady "saves" cats if I find hard copy gaming material on the cheap, even if I have a copy, I will probably get it if only to "save" it from not being lovingly owned. I will however give copies of these multiple books away to good homes if I become aware of a gamer lacking a core piece of gaming history such as the Players Handbook (3b).
(3b) I think technically it should be the Players' Handbook as there's more than one player using it ... but that apostrophe looks odd. My crazy old boss once said there was a rule about dropping punctuation from signage to save space but I am not sure if that's the case. Apparently though McDonald's was an aberration for doing so. Again, according to her. Grain of salt etc. 


  1. You could also put the apostrophe before the S, because the individual handbook presumably only belongs to one player (or at least the vendors hope so - increased sales).

    There is also an argument to be made for dropping apostrophes from words when they are serving more of an adjective function. For example, kids TV. The kids don't own the TV, either singularly or plurally, so an apostrophe is unnecessary - it's just an adjective describing the type of TV it is. That's probably the logic they used not to put the apostrophe in the title of the book. I'm still a little weirded out by it.

  2. Thanks Editor boffin!

  3. That last rule is one I only discovered toward the end of last year. So there you go. :)

    1. It's a good rule. Last year in a report I got confused about it all and put a header in of Fathers' day...


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