O Shite.

Poor old Alvin Absolom. Apart from having a stupid name he had a terrible problem which was very embarrassing for all involved. He was fat. Very fat. In fact, he'd put B. Mulvey to shame with the amount of pure and utter flab that was to be found around his middle and surrounding areas. But not only did he have a massive stomach (even larger than Bill Ten Thousand Stone, God rest him), he also had a gi-normous arse, slightly larger than a small country. (Fair play to Neil Hannon for that one, and also to Liam for inspiring me to talk like him for some reason.) Thus it was very hard to get by him if you met him in a corridor or something. In fact it was well nigh impossible. And imagine meeting him on a bus. God, it was desperate. And this is just like a Mr Men book.

Though Alvin sounded like he was, he wasn't actually Jewish, though it would have been very hard for him to prove it considering he had so much pure flab around that area. I mean to say, he could have had a Star of David branded onto his arse or something, like a lot of them Jews do be doing these days. As a matter of fact he was baptized as a Catholic, but he stopped going to Mass a few years back because it was bad for his health, but in particular his presence was hazardous to small childs whom he regularly sat on (completely by accident, of course), forgetting that the fat around his arse was so voluminous.

But the reason we mention Alvin to you is because a few months ago he came to the attention of Brenda O'Donoghue of the Gerry Ryan Show, who was investigating the various shite phenomena of Ireland (that being shite as in "Gerry's Cup Lán de Shoite" as in excrement as in poo poo, and not just shite as in rubbish as in not-very-good). Alvin's particular problem with shiteing stems from the fact that due to his enormous body mass the sheer volume of his shite is very difficult to deal with. After a particularly heavy meal Alvin's shite was very often of catastrophic proportions. One particular day he visited Eddie Rocket's only to find himself caught very short indeed after a meal of triple hamburger dripping with blue cheese followed by five Oreo cookie malts and three bowls of disgustingly cheesy garlic fries, all washed down with a nice bottle of Gaviscon and a few Rennie Deflatines. Feeling the shite coming ever quicker, Alvin dashed for the jacks but could only manage a rather hasty plod. Once he had squeezed through the doors he sat his enormously fat arse awkwardly onto the toilet bowl and awaited the explosion. As a matter of fact, he shat so fast that he caused a sonic boom which shattered the mirror and knocked the door off its hinges. The black guys at the door were just ready to call in reinforcements, fearing the angry customer had returned to throw another few punches, but after inspecting the loos they realized poor Alvin's most embarrassing predicament and left him to clean up the lava-like shite which now plastered the walls of the gents' jacks.

Such is the way with fat people and shite. But God love them, it's not their fault really, it's just the gland in the back-passage that has them that way.