I eat little. Not surprisingly, I shit little, too. But, I hasten to add, I am quite regular. Every day I produce a little turd. Yesterday I ate a lot, however. I learned that Benjamin Pahović was preparing a large pot of stuffed cabbage or sarma for his friends helping him with yet another agricultural chore in Pahovići, his village, and I brazenly asked him whether he could spare some for me. I love sarma, I explained. He left me quite a lot, of course. And I stuffed myself. I was aware that all this would have to come out sometime today, but I was still surprised by how much actually came out. I kept shitting and shitting. The turd stretched and stretched. It appeared endless. In the end, I almost panicked. Could this be shit still? As of late, this happens to me about once or twice a year. And each time I am on the verge of panic. I eat little, as I already said.