33) Address to the haggis

I've touched briefly on the Scottish and the effects of their cuisine on my bowels (I shat myself) but this entire post is dedicated to the subject and is inspired by burns night.

I've only had haggis once and that was over a decade ago, in fact burns night passes me by most years without me even realising. This year however I was treated to a nice haggis meal at my girlfriends house, it was very nice and I feel like I should have eaten haggis more often. As a side issue I don't understand  why liver, lungs and heart wrapped in stomach is an accepted dish but people turn their noses up when I order a tray of donner meat.

As I was saying the haggis was very nice, until it reached the other end that is. I developed bad wind which was worsened by the bike ride I'd been on earlier that afternoon. I spent most of the night deflating and when I awoke the next morning, the portion of my body which had been under the duvet had fermented.

I arrived at work and it soon became apparent that my 10:30 appointment was going to be moved forwards by 30-40 minutes. I touched down shortly before 10, at first it trickled and then it rained. I produced something between a type 5 and a type 6 on the Bristol stool chart. As I caught up on all things social media on my phone whilst delivering this package, I noticed a very kind gentleman had recommended my blog on his blog it's not about poo so I can't vouch for it's quality but the guy clearly has taste if he's recommending me. This evacuation was not the end of the story

I was based downstairs on this day so I was not at my usual desk however I returned frequently to get stuff from my desk and to banter hard with my usual co-workers. In fact, one such visit was intended solely for the purpose of farting in that office. I entered the room and let out a silent one before wafting a clipboard to indicate my flatulence. One lady remarked "careful you don't do what you did in that confession you made in your blog" (I knew that would come back to bite me, I just didn't expect it at work). I was however, safe, for now. As the day went on the moisture levels increased, whilst I was 99% sure I was safe there was a lingering doubt in my head that I wouldn't be. Perhaps making my confession last week has unsurfaced some suppressed anxieties?

As home time came closer the gale force winds eased off, the stomach cramps decreased and I felt like my stomach was getting back to normal. Upon arriving home shortly before 5pm I enquired about what was for tea, "haggis leftovers" came the reply. Mixed feelings. Whilst I like haggis and I like the wind, I don't like the cramps that accompany it. When tea time arrived I felt fine, the effects of the previous haggis had worn off but one hour later I was at it like a trooper again. Forget fracking just plug me in I'll power the town.

The effects of the second haggis had worn off by the time I went to bed. Much like when I go abroad it seems that my body takes a day to get used to foreign cuisine.