via The Consumerist by Ben Popken on 12/14/10
Now you can make your own Golden Poo trophies at home with the line of Gold Pills by Citizen:Citizen. For just $425, these 24k gold leaf filled capsules will "turn your innermost parts into chambers of wealth."
The price tag is a little steep, and the product page says it's temporarily unavailable, so why not just take some shots of gold glitter instead?
Gold Pills [CITIZEN:Citizen] (Thanks to Nicole!)
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 2:54 PM
One of the Phantom Pooper's father's favorite riddles:
Why are your turds tapered at the ends?
So your asshole won't slam shut.
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 7:58 PM
The Phantom Pooper thanks Mr. GrabAsstino for sending in his rather large log, but wishes to one day see a completely intact bowlfiller.
Here I sit, in smelly vapor,
Cause someone stole the toilet paper.
How much longer shall I linger
Till I'm forced to use my finger?
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 2:04 PM
So your asshole doesn't slam shut.
My dad once told me that joke, and I laughed for a few solid minutes. But never did I more drastic necessity for a tapered deuce than in the photo submitted by Shitty Fitti. Shitty's crap looks like it's fist-size in the middle. Can you imagine the reverberations of his asshole if that poop was not, in fact, tapered? I sure can't. And don't wish to ever picture that in my head again.
Shitty saw me out in a bar and came running up to me like a kid and his first Aced test, so very proud of his little (errr... large) creation. Shitty, nice job... a valid first contribution to prizedpoops.com. Keep on deucing.
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 1:27 PM
I know what you're thinking PrizedPoopers, mainly because I constantly get emails from you begging to know: Does Dougie use sturdy hands to shape these stunning stools? A little doubtful myself, I took the question to the man, the myth, the legend... and he promptly smacked me in the face. How dare I insult his invocations! Dougie, I apologize, and beg you to keep doing whatever it is you are do, keep eating whatever it is you eat, and keep creating whatever it is you create. For without you, the world would be a whole lot less interesting.
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 12:44 PM
I got an email from the Godfather himself:
From the stretched out sphincter of Ass-happy Anthony's anus arose an audacious -- albeit atrocious -- assemblage: an amazing artwork. Call it an eel, a snake, a walking stick... scratch that. Call it the Godfather. It was actually the initial poop that perpetuated this priceless pooping proposition that pulls participants to ponder the possibilities of the depths of the porcelain ocean.
Damnit, Anthony, gotta stop you here. Enough alliteration. This was the first poop that passed through the cellular airwaves and started the deucing duels. Well created, Ass-Happy Anthony. Took you long enough to resend it to me.
Flushed by Phantom Pooper at 6:48 AM