Toilet Garden, Day 3

8:03 a.m.     Good morning world. What’s that? Oh yes, the sweet smell of genius and success coming from my bathroom. My Shitty Garden is in bloom. Good morning little seeds. Take your time, I’m in no hurry. Sprout when you feel like it.

10:47 a.m.     Initial exuberance from being such a fucking genius and growing vegetables on my shit in my toilet is starting to wane. What started out as a sure fire way to get chicks is turning into a big pile of fermenting shit. No one could have foreseen this unlikely turn of events. There was no way to predict that keeping an unflushed bowl of crap for 3 days would be so gross.

1:18 p.m.     No, no damn it. I will not give up. I must continue. There’s no ‘i’ in failure. Must keep thinking of the glory, money and pussy that awaits me when my peas finally sprout. These thoughts keep me going and are the only thing that keeps the stench at bay.

3:12 p.m.     Forgot about my Toilet Garden, went to jerk off into the crapper as usual and let’s just say a decomposing pot of raw sewage is kryptonite to boners.

4:33 p.m.     Urge to flush increasing. The initial countermeasure of simply closing the lid on the bowl worked for a while, but now seems like my turd; fruitless. Maybe Saran Wrap will help.

7:52 p.m.     Who the fuck do you think you are? 72 fucking hours and you don’t have the decency to sprout even a little. Being sown in my shit is a privilege not a right. Where do you fucking seeds get off? I have a good mind to flush you little bastards just to show you who’s boss. I never wanted to do this god damn thing in the first place. I hate peas. Fuck you .

9:44 p.m.     I fear this may be my last post on this plog. Either the decomposing shit is causing me to hallucinate or my bowl full of shit has actually gained sentience. In either case I will soon be enslaved to do its bidding.