The Boxing Day Log


The Boxing Day log is a festive cunt.

I feel as if I have been to one of Elton’s special parties as a guest of Michael Barrymore.

I am trying to contact Dynorod to sort out the plumbing.
Son of Boxing Day log is lurking to prevent any wandering too far afield.
Cunt.

Nominated by Cuntstable Cuntbubble

20 thoughts on “The Boxing Day Log

  1. I can only describe the sound of my bathroom visit this morning as being akin to a flock of starlings leaving a tree.

    • That is a beautiful analogy, have you ever considered running for poet laureate?
      My contribution to the post Xmas shit mountain was disappointingly unspectacular. Maybe tomorrow, I know there’s a lot still to come out.

      • Many thanks themagiccunt.
        I’ve penned this heartfelt prose to her majesty in expectation. I await her response.
        The gentle warming sun dapples upon oaks of splendour
        Reclusive existence continues its perpetual survival amongst the sturdy boughs.
        Not a sound to be heard bar the distant echoes of menacing thunder
        Internal squalls, the pressure like steam
        A portent of the ensuing nightmare.
        Panic and stumbling , cloying at buttons
        Frenzied confusion to the porcelain chair
        Release!
        I’d give it ten minutes , it fucking stinks in there.

  2. I left something akin to the head and neck of the lock ness monster (the surgeons photo one ) sticking out of the water pan sometime about noon today. 2 flushes later and it decided to swim off to terrorise the local treatment works.

    • Similar toilet dramas this morning DiCunty, King Kong’s finger infused with stuffing , onion gravy and brussels. Merry Christmas Anglian Water.

  3. Totally agree with this cunting. Was so stuffed last night I couldn’t move.
    Merry.. erm.. Boxing Day, cunters…

  4. On the run up to Christmas my missus told me at least a dozen times,”If you’re gonna buy me something to wear, don’t forget, I’m a size 12.”

    But come Christmas day, as usual, I’m the cunt because despite four pairs of socks, the shoes are still too big….

  5. On another note, still log related another boat load of peaceful types picked up in the channel
    The authorities are blaming organised crime.

    I blame, porous borders across the EU, piss poor French police (probably dont give fuck) and our soft fucking government for not getting a fucking grip!

    I would like to see how many of these fuckers actually get sent back, just waiting for the next fucking “peaceful attack” ….

    Its getting beyond a fucking joke now, we have record numbers of homeless, giving shit loads of cash to the pits of the world in foreign aid and boat loads of fuckers invading our shores in fucking rubber landing craft, I am sure for every one the coastguard pick up there will be several more that get through and land somewhere on the south coast

  6. Oh yes, the notorious Boxing Day log……or several in my case.

    I thought I was straining out a fucking Zeppelin this morning.

    In fact, had I dumped in the English Channel, I am certain a bunch of migrants could’ve purloined it to boat them into the UK (had it been a floater, of course)

  7. All I’m saying is I had to get up off of mine and batter it with the seat to assist the flush………………..

  8. Cuntstable Cuntbubble’s dilemma has given me an idea for a wonderful new reality TV show for ITV, combining the best elements of Strictly, the GBBO and the Krypton Factor.

    I give you “Celebrity Thunderbox”. A group of “personalities” will compete for the title “Shit Of The Year” and the winner will receive “The Golden Turd Award”. Plastic, of course

    Imagine the splendour of the scene. The contestants, Sir Philip Green, Anthony Blair, Sadiq Khan, Dominic Grieve, Lord Heseltine, David Lammy, Chuka Umunna, Lord Adonis and Gina Miller, all known for their gracious living and dining and Lord Mandelson and Diane Abbott as the comedy contestants suffering terrible constipation and piles (Mandy as a result of several blockages in the Hampstead Heath area) , all sat on communual crappers with their knickers round their ankles.

    The judges, Simon Cowell, Anna Soubry, Alan Carr and Sandi Toksvig will have to award points for output, smell and who pulls the smuggest faces (Blair of course will be wreathed in smiles).

    There will be a musical interval from Bob Geldof and his Remainers, and the whole show will be hosted by Phillip Schofield (because he always does ITV shit) It will be his duty to remove each turd by hand from the crapper and weight it (my money is on old Saddick as more crap comes out of him than anyone else, but I can imagine Blair, Grieve and Mangledbum producing the most malodorous examples. Perhaps a runner-up prize for the most red faced contestant, a years supply of Izal heavy duty bog rolls (the ones like sandpaper we had at school). Your hostesses will be the lovely Kate Osamar and Penny Toynbee in a low cut ball gown.

    This will be a Golden Bowl production, sponsored by Andrex and Fabreze air freshner. To save casualties in the studio audience they will be issued with war surplus gas masks, bull will be required to whistle and cheer on cue.

    Naturally if this is a success the BBC will produce their own cheap knock-off Strictly Come Farting. How can it lose?. This will change the face of Saturday night and Boxing Day TV I tell you. The Boxing Day one could have an extra round-The Brussell Sprout challenge, the Saturday ones “Ghandi’s revenge” after a lunchtime group curry.

    I am off to pitch the idea to ITV – it will be the biggest things they have had on their hands for years.

    • An excellent idea WCB. I think you are definitely on to something here.

      Could I just make a suggestion, I think Hezza may not qualify as he’d already have shit his incontinence pants before he got on the Celebrity Thunderbox.

      And whilst on the subject of the Thunderbox, I’ve just delivered Meat Loafs daughter.

      • I think Gove May be a worthy contender but I’m afraid Sir Cliff would be the disappointment I envisage.

        Little rabbity shits that smelt of nothing other than Princess Di’s flowers.

        Could I suggest Eric Pickles as a stand in.

  9. Mine was more of a jumbo sized pinecone with melted lego bricks stuck all over it. Sort of like a shitmas tree if you will. Lots of whiskey desicated that bad boy to the point where you could hammer nails with it.

    Was brutal but a real relief.

  10. Its round two today and a bit like Brexit. Neither side wants to give an inch, frustrating stalemate on whether to leave or remain.

  11. Ouch, bad luck CC! Better luck this morning I hope!
    Must admit that I disappeared into the spare bog for an hour yesterday with a glass of wine and the Xmas ‘Viz’, ultimately to produce a dump that was a thing of beauty and a joy to behold. Bliss!

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