I work in the same building as a really fat bastard. He is so large across the beam, I have decided to call him "two bums". He is not the same bloke as "two breakfasts", who is even larger. Two Bums is not very big from side on, but as you can imagine from my nickname, he is the epitomy of a pear shaped monster.
Two Breakfasts on the other hand is just a great gallooping motherfucker. After a few days of inhabiting one of our office chairs, the arms were bent out at 45 degrees. Two Breakfasts departed some time ago. Two Bums works on another floor, but we bump into each other from time to time in the locker room. Until today, I had no idea why he would want to go to the locker room - it's clear the only exercise he does is lifting an overloaded fork to his mouth.
Today, it all became clear. I went to the locker room to get changed for the homeward journey, and Two Bums was exiting as I walked in. Obviously, I let the great fat turd waddle past me before I attempted to go through the door, as there is no way in hell two of us could pass. Even Paris Hilton wouldn't be able to squeeze past him. He was sweating like a maniac. Maybe he had been working out?
Oh yes, he had been working out. I went to use the toilet, and found that there was a bit of paper in the bottom. I decided to give it a flush, and the next thing you know, the water level is rising in the bowl so rapidly, I had to quickly escape the cubicle to avoid getting wet shoes.
Two Bums had left his mark. It was no wonder he was sweating. He had done the MOAG (Mother Of All Grogans).
It got me thinking. Fat bastards get fat by inhaling a large amount of food. As a consequence of that, are they doing correspondingly larger turds, and more often, than the rest of us? Are we perhaps short of water because they are flushing the toilet many more times per day than you and me?
Are they also regularly clogging dunnies with grogans the size of soup tins?
These are things that we all should ponder........