Bidet: A Most European Experience

I had shat literally all I could possibly shit, but somewhere, deep down, I knew I would need to shit again imminently. Such are the joys of food poisoning, or in this case some dodgy Albanian tap water. In fairness, the foreign office advice had been fairly clear cut.

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Like, Joe

I was a simple sixth grader, hanging myself along poles that formed a fence dividing the school from the strip mall. The ropes didn’t seem that tight. Joe grabbed me from my self-made death sentence
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