I've had a little accident

I've had a little accident,
It's rather quite shameful.
I had chicken madras for dinner last night,
this accident is quite painful.

My undergarments are ruined,
Though I try to remain very stolid.
They've been acting like a filter;
separating liquid from solid.

I'm trying not to move too much,
for fear I'll reveal this dirty crime.
But to my shame I'm impressed,
the smell is truly divine.

I'm not saying I'm proud,
I'm not saying I'm ashamed.
But I'd be extremely dissapointed,
If on somebody else this was blamed.

I stand by my convictions,
I'm a man of my word.
I'm proud of my moral fibre,
So I'm proud of this turd.

And whilst it's scorched my posterior,
I'll refrain from deploying any tears,
It might have ruined my tighty whities,
but I'll be talking of this for years.

Henceforth known as 'The Madras Massacre'
It's what the Greeks might have called a mass pragma,
It's an incendiary red-hot disaster,
Behold this burning liquid ass-magma.