I think I'll copy and paste most of the comments in this thread into one 'complete crap compendium'. Some classics on here. :D
Anyway, no, there's nothing whatsoever wrong in enjoying a good Brad Pitt. Especially the life-changing ones. Where you put in unnatural effort and deposit a chair leg (long, brown, hard & won't go round the u-bend) and feel such pride in your work you're almost compelled to take a photo. At the other end of the spectrum there's the effortless yet spectacular ones, commonly fuelled by lager. You just nestle yourself onto the throne & the digestive system does most of the work, not that there's much of that due to the normally liquid-y texture. These lager fuelled evacuations mean several expeditions to the bog in the same day in my case. ![]()
Mentioned earlier, the vindaloo ones are a bastard. The only slight relief from these is putting the Andrex/Tesco's own brand/Basildon Bond into the fridge just after you finish the curry. But, the next day you feel a bit of a hero remembering the horrors you've survived. I think one of the worst experiences I had was after a feed of fish & chips with curry sauce. By the time I got to work that night my arse was burning like the Apollo rocket. The advance-warning rumbles, the bombardment of the porcelain & the wiping were all agony. I was tempted to leave the Satan's Coil floating as a 'gift' to my twat of a boss but the odour was so foul I decided even he didn't deserve it. Beside which, he'd probably charge me for the cost of re-tiling the bathroom.
To connect to the KLF thread, in the song "Build A Fire" by The KLF there's a line that I always imagined was inspired by a traumatic Eartha Kitt: "When daylight breaks we'll be down that road. Rockman & me with a lighter load." Though probably not. ![]()