Unformed stool of a broken man

By howie

The wife is out with friends,
I’m home alone again.
Another night in front of the tele
What am I gonna cook for my dinner
The fridge is empty
and the cupboard is bare
that is except for that one can
not sure if I can hack am I really a man

there is a can of baked beans
with the used by date expired
best before February 1988
some bread on the bench
I guess this is my dinner
Killer baked beans on toast

Opened the can and poured out the beans
Put them in the micro for 2 minutes
The last 2 bits of bread
Pop them in the toaster
The beans are ready,
just burnt the damn toast.

I began to eat the beans
straight from the bowl
my taste buds committed suicide
my stomach was disapproving
I could tell it was going to be a battle
I headed straight for bed

I awoke in the morning,
My wife was still not home
I headed for the bathroom
Like a rocket into space
I sat on the porcelain
And gave out a yell.

Like the unformed stool of a broken man
Shooting through like a bondi tram
The effects of dinner are plain to see
The odour rises and encompasses me.

Like the unformed stool of a broken man
Shooting through like a bondi tram
The effects of dinner are plain to see
The odour rises and encompasses me.

The moral to this story is
Trust the best before date
Other wise you too
Will have unformed stool like a broken man,
Shooting through like a bondi tram.