Breaking news out of the remote, snow-covered peaks of Tibet, where a man named Simon Tuffington, a former resident of Birmingham, has spent the last 13 years honing a skill so rare, so unique, that it has never been mentioned in any bathroom stall graffiti or online how-to guide: controlling the speed at which poop leaves his body.
Yes, you read that right. Tuffington, who first embarked on his spiritual journey in 2010 after a disappointing experience at his local Wetherspoons, decided that the everyday act of defecation needed to be more… well, sophisticated. “I wanted to take what is generally regarded as a simple biological function and elevate it to an art form”, he explained in his heartfelt letter to the editors at PoopsNews. “Why should poop just… happen? Why can’t we control it?”
For over a decade, Simon studied under the wise and somewhat mysterious Lama Flushu, a Tibetan monk whose lineage claims to trace back to the legendary “Fast & Furious Poo Master” of the 12th century. The Lama’s teachings focus on controlling the speed and consistency of bowel movements, a skill that requires focus, discipline, and — some speculate — a carefully curated diet of yak milk and lentils. Simon, of course, was no stranger to difficult challenges.
Simon’s letter to the PoopsNews editorial team details the intensity of his training regimen, which included daily 12-hour meditation sessions focused solely on intestinal control and long, contemplative strolls to outhouses located 5 miles away. His proudest moment came when he was finally able to master the technique known as The Stealth Bomb, a method of releasing poop so gradually that it makes no sound upon exiting the body.
“I’ve surpassed even Lama Flushu in this art”, Simon boasts in his letter. “When I was first learning, I had no control over my speed — my poops would either rush out like a freight train or take their sweet time, like an old man on a Sunday stroll. But now? Now I can poop for 45 minutes straight if I want to, or be done in 30 seconds. Whatever the moment calls for, I deliver”.
But as we know all too well, returning home after such a transformative journey can be tough. Simon came back to the UK brimming with excitement, ready to showcase his newly honed abilities to a world that he believed would be receptive. But, sadly, that wasn’t the case.
“Everything’s fast here, isn’t it?” Simon lamented. “People want fast internet, fast food, and apparently, fast poops. But what if I told them that taking your time with your bowel movements leads to inner peace, digestive harmony, and a more profound connection to oneself? I can control the pace of my life — why wouldn’t I apply that to the toilet?”
The problem is, unlike the rolling hills of Tibet, where such practices are revered as sacred, the UK doesn’t seem to know what to do with a man who can control the velocity of his poop. In his desperate appeal to the readers of PoopsNews, Simon admits that he’s at a loss for how to monetize his skill set.
“Here in Birmingham, they’ve got speed cameras, sure, but no one’s monitoring poop velocity. It’s not something you can show off at parties either — trust me, I’ve tried”, Simon writes. “One time, I thought about starting a YouTube channel, ‘Simon’s Slow Poo Show,’ but apparently, there’s not much interest in watching a man meticulously control his bowel movements on camera. Who knew?”
Despite Simon’s deep frustration, his story has captivated readers across the country. We’ve seen an outpouring of sympathy and support for the man whose talents remain tragically underutilized.
“Simon is a pioneer, a trailblazer”, said one reader, Agnes Muffins, in the comment section of our previous article. “The UK just isn’t ready for that kind of greatness yet, but I bet they will be. Couldn’t he open a retreat for mindfulness pooping? Maybe get Gwyneth Paltrow involved?”
Another reader, Kevin Plopson, suggested Simon start a Patreon to teach subscribers how to manage their own poop speeds. “I’d pay good money for that kind of wisdom. You can’t put a price on a well-paced poo”, he commented, likely from his own personal throne of enlightenment (read: toilet).
However, despite these ideas, Simon remains without a clear direction, as many in his local community view his skill as nothing more than a bizarre party trick. “It’s not a joke!” Simon insists. “We live in a world of fast everything, and it’s ruining us. We rush our meals, our work, our relationships — why are we rushing our poops too?”
Now, we at PoopsNews are calling on our loyal readers to step up and offer suggestions on how Simon might turn this rare ability into something profitable, or at the very least, something respected. Can he bring about a new wellness trend? Or perhaps a series of masterclasses on mindful defecation? Let’s hear your thoughts, but please — this is a serious matter, so no jokes or toilet humor, thank you very much.
After all, Simon didn’t spend 13 years squatting on a snowy mountainside just for you to giggle.
Could this be the next frontier of wellness, mindfulness, and… bowel enlightenment? Only time — and your brilliant suggestions — will tell. So, readers, let’s help Simon find his rightful place in the fast-paced world of modern Britain. It’s time to give mindful pooping the platform it deserves.
If you have any ideas for Simon on how he can monetize his gift, please leave them in the comments below. The future of bowel control hangs in the balance.
