As I remembered with my friend who really had to poop today, sometimes we really have to poop… but in whatever particular situation we happen to be in, the poop can’t always be had.
So we sweat. We squeeze in. We nod and behave agreeably in conversations that, in the moment, are annoying and unimportant. We pray, and we struggle. And when we get the chance, we RUN.
Sometimes we make it.
Other times, we don’t.
In the times where we do, often a phunny phenomenon occurs. We burst into the closest bathroom we can find and hastily shimmy out of whatever outfit we saw fit for the day (god damn the days when I think it’s a good idea to wear spanx, a leotard, tights, or all of the above!!) We nestle our sweaty cheeks into the porcelain pool that awaits our precious deposit, when, gasp! WHAT’S THIS?!! We are astonished to find that no matter how hard we squeeze and push, rock and sway, there is no pinchable loaf to be found!!
You can be such a vindictive little shit.
Anyway, I guess the times when we don’t make it should also be addressed.
When you just don’t make it in time, suspend the urge to cut your loaf with what my friend calls the “sphincter knife.” When your little ass-turdle sticks his little head out in an untimely manner, I urge you to try and pull him back in. If that doesn’t work, quickly find a way to remove yourself from your probably-now-stinky surroundings and “Get thee to a WC!!”
Also take the time to thank your lucky stars that your fudge was solid.
For the times when it’s not, I’m sorry.
Tune in next time for a (probably brief) discussion on sharting.