It was Easter Sunday in Chicago, and my sister Amy and I were attending an afternoon dinner at the home of our friend John. The weather was nice, and he'd set up a table in the backyard so that we might sit in the sun. Everyone had taken their places, when I excused myself to visit the bathroom, and there, in the toilet, was the absolute biggest turd I have ever seen in my life - no toilet paper or anything, just this long and coiled specimen, as thick as a burrito. [
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A fortunate few of you have already heard tell of my similar experience while visiting the nearby and ominous Amish country, mid-west chapter. For those who questioned my motives for sharing this taboo yarn, I now present the academic work of Mr. Sedaris as my evidence that it is noteworthy, it is interesting, and it is very, very funny.
The word 'turd' appeared six times in this short story. I actually had to add it to my word processor's local dictionary for convenience.
While Microsoft Word does not recognize the word turd, it can automagically change "Ameria" to "America".
Nicholson Baker, in his work the Fermata, referred to the male member approximately 67 times and never used the same descriptor twice.
