I went to France and took a dump in a street. Now I’m an accused merde horreur.

The renegade employee who defecated in an aquarium was accused of sharking his doodies.

Don’t borrow a friend’s pants, even if you have diarrhea. You need to shart your own cords.

A turtle: when your stool has a thick outer casing.

Do those who analyze stool samples speak Tagalog?

Your favourite All Bran commercials can be brownloaded from the Internet.

Footage of my colonoscopy is being made into a feature film! It should be quite the enematic spectacle.

Upon hearing someone noisily defecate in a bathroom stall, people tend to scurry away. Scientists have labeled this phenomenon the Ploppler Shift.

When I suggested that washing your clothes in the toilet is a good idea, I was met with in crud dull a tee.

Quote from Mr. TP: “I pity the stool.“

Solving constipation is a matter of bran over brown.

There was a recently released study on rectal occlusions. What does it pooer-port to say?

My constipated friends and I decided to get together and have a block potty.

Some children’s books are awful. Whinny the Poo was complete horse shit.

They found the cure for marsupial diarrhea in Koala Lumper.

There’s a new brand of toilet water, made from diarrhea: it’s called Eau du Colon.

Pat’s 2009 Pun Off “Punniest of Show” Routine :: Farts and Terrorism

I’ll cut to the cheese:  I had a you reeka moment while reading an article in Ass Choir magazine.

It said that though Western peoples are controlling their emissions, there are still vast buildups of natural gas, held in tense grip between belligerent Cheeks in the Mid East.

This has led to methane-ous crimes among Arab arsetalkocracies, including the assgassination of the Blue Angel, leader of the Fartsee people, which has the hole region under a terrible cloud. The stealth bomber let loose in a crowded theatre hot box; it was John Wilts-the-Booth, a has-beans actor, aka Jack the Ripper, who suffocated his victim in the dark.

Since then, nonstop stench warfare: silent-but-deadly rocket blasts (outside the Qatar embarrassee) and the cries of aerate sirens. Ol factories have been odoured shut down for safety. In Krakow meanwhile, Eeeeewww leaders have held nothing in there but talks for days– many high rank officials are holding their noses in response to the colon of doody.

Egyptian statesman Atef Ebeid (Burrito) also scented a strong message: He let one slip recently, boasting “In Egypt, we have ‘toot’ in common. We created the mysterious Sphinx, which baffle the world. Now we have a mighty Force of Air. Let smell-odious trumpets sound! Let the infidels sulphur!”

I’m no Nostrildamus, but my analysis? Throw caulking to the wind, and plug holes in these terrorassts: That would help rectumfy everything before it goes any farter!

Thank you, it’s been a slice.

We will do any kind of scatological joke, except if it’s ass poonerism.

Microsoft knows that programming crappy software requires many shitterations.

Do babies drive Mini Poopers?

Mr. T is getting incontinent in his old age. He was recently heard to boast, “I shitty the pool.“

The Pied Piper was constantly surrounded by filthy rats, and eventually became known as the Peed Pooper.

Who made a fortune with his empire of constipated software?

Bilge Ates.

The patron saint of constipation had a grisly end: he was mar turd.

I wanted to visit the Museum of Pyroscatology, to see a burning bag of feces. In order to do so, I char turd a bus.

You might get constipated if you sit too long on a bar stool.

The monks preserved the History of Diarrhea in an Ill Loo Men Ated Manuscrapt.

I had nothing but diarrhea when I visited the French Chateau

Those who refuse to eat fibre are diss laxic. They’ll never runs for pubic orifice.

When someone stole my toilet paper, I felt like I had been visited by the Grim Wiper.

All my friends have dangerously explosive bowels. But I stand by my Crohnies nonetheless.

There are vast quantities of natural gas held in tense grip between warring Middle Eastern Cheeks. This has led to methane-ous crimes among the rival arsetalkocracies, including the recent assgassination of the Blue Angel, leader of the Qatar people — which puts all Fartsees under a cloud of suspicion. Once the flow of blood is stenched, the factions must put this behind them and shart a new course, toot suite.

My son is getting farter and farter behind, so we’re hiring a tooter. It should rectumfy the shituation, whenever the teacher decides to colon him.

Letterman’s latest mono log was a singular piece of crap.

NED: Do you blog?
ED: No.
NED: Really, I thought you did.
ED: Well, I do keep a diarrhea, but only on Splatterdays.

NED: I won’t tolerate potty talk.
ED: Why not?
NED: Because, it’s looed!
ED: You seem quite johndiced! You’re flush with rage.
NED: I have toilet you know this.
ED: Don’t be a pooer sport.
NED: Oh, now urine for it!

Ancient Egyptian mummifiers practised poor hygiene. Unfortunately they didn’t have time to clean out the mummies’ bowels, before the bodies were in turd.

I was told to watch what I eat, so I swallowed my timepiece. My friends thought I was crazy and recommended I undergo Seiko-anal-lysis. But I wasn’t just going to shit on my hands and wait for time to pass.

If you crap into a bottle of whiskey, you will go straight to heaven. After all, Jesus said “Blessed are the pooer in spirits.”

How do proctologists figure out how much to bill their clients?

Fecalculators.

Colon cleansing is expensive. If you do it often, you’ll end up in the poo-er hose.

If you’re at work and the shit hits the fan, the first thing to do is look for your pooper-visor.

God must have been constipated. He didn’t create feces until the turd day.

I got so scared when driving my new car, I soiled my pants. It must have been the turd-bowl charged engine.

There was a dream match at the World Ping-Pong tournament, where in the last game the seeded #1 faced the seeded #2. Fans called this dramatic match the Peeing-Pooing Finale.

Do parole officers suffer from constipulation?

NED: So this fish crapped on me the other day…
ED: Really? What a bassturd!

There is a cure for constipation which involves eating, not less, but more, until you’re stuffed. It’s very expensive, however, this ‘bloating’ laxative. It’s for the swell-to-doo.

Ketchup sales are lagging far behind, after it was found that musturd is also a laxative.