My English Il-breeding

Dear friends and family,

Soo . . . Pooping.

Apparently, it's a problem here. The hot, liquidy, brown water that has no faucet control, often, magically, appears in your pants.

Yay, Giardia. Dun Dundadudun.
Giardia. Bum bada bum. (If you can get what song I'm referencing, props to you)

Well, I'm having the opposite problem. And that's because I have to shit in this!

And I never feel empty afterwards . . . and I never feel clean.

I have no shame. You all can know this.

Today I got some interesting news that might change my little constipation problem if not the clean problem. The wonderful, amazing, and perfect water filter Peace Corps provided me doesn't actually do what they say it does. The "chemical component" that is supposed to murder the icky germs in my water is actually the component that filters out the bleach I haven't yet added to the water I have, yes, consumed.

And. So. Now. I'm banking on my ill-breeding to save me. I'm depending on the good, strong English farmer stock that is related to absolutely no royalty. The blood that puts me behind the Irish for ascension to the throne. I'm banking on that blood to protect me from whatever nasty I may or may not have consumed since Saturday.

Sincerely, me

P.S. They say it takes a week for the brown water to come to you. Basically, what I'm saying is look forward to more pooping posts.