The toughest part of our lives is probably that my wife and I share one small bathroom.
We also share it with the kids, but they don't really count since I can overrule them, I'm faster and smarter and stronger than they are, and in the end, it's less of a problem if they end up shitting on the floor.
Every weekday morning, though my wife and I drink our coffee at different times, it always seems that we're ready to evacuate at exactly the same instant. This means I'm shit outta luck: One of the tenets of our pre-nuptual agreement is that she has right-of-way – she cannot use the bathroom for 1 hour after I have taken a dump.
"Oh my god, did you spray?! I'm going to be sick!"
No, my evacuation naturally has a twinge of lemongrass. Yes I fuckin sprayed! You think your evacuation smells like Brangelina?! Why is there NO question, when we both have to shit, about who gets to go first?!
Now, these are the things I don't say, because I just don't have the political capital to spend on this issue. Listen, I have a site called Blognigger where I talk about getting handjobs and wanting to bang hot chicks, and while all that shit is obviously FICTIONAL (gulp), after many tweaks and compromises, my wife is very understanding about the whole situation. So the bottom line is, I can't be arguing with her about who gets to take the first dump.
One thing I can't stifle though, is my instinct to blow up at her when she gets out of the bathroom, glowing from her peaceful prioritized evacuation, and immediately starts giving me orders to perform work for tasks she's thought of while taking the coveted first crap. I take a comic book into the shitter, she brings an at-a-glance planner. There's no better metaphor for the differences between us than that.
[spray...spraaaaaay...clink...dooropen...SLAM]
Babe can you add a yogurt to Sammy's lunch I forgot to put one in also that lightbulb in the hall I cannot deal with a dark hallway today you were gonna do that also have you gotten the days booked for christmas yet can you check quickly please which dates exactly are you taking?
Fuckin HOLD ON a second - remember the urgency with which you just stepped over me and the kids to get to the shitter in time? And remember that during your business-class evacuation, us niggas in coach were sitting here with drips of sweat on our brows like David Dinkins, crossing our legs until your highness was through? Well now that you're out, before you make with the 10 commandments, step aside and let me hit that shit bitch I said I'm still HUMAN bitch PLEASE.
"NO: I'm just telling you this stuff because you always forget! ANGER ANGER BLAH!" right at me! "Make sure you spray!" or some hateful shit like that, right while I'm walking into the foggy bathroom. And her vibe stresses me out, tightens my bowels, and I become the Chuck Knobloch of shitting. The evacuation process is all mental; she throws off my game, I miss my morning window, and I end up in situations like the one I'm currently in:
I have not properly shat in one full week.
Yeah my toilet ate 3 milkduds and a fun-size snickers on Friday, but I'm talking medically, I have old material that is from a week ago up backed up in there somewhere. I believe that I am in danger.
What exactly happens if you stop shitting? Where is all that food going? I checked my trusty internet, the nexus of balanced thought and propriety, and it immediately informed me that I was going to die.
This was not what I fucking wanted to hear, as now the pressure is even greater, and it's that much harder to evacuate. I drink 3 cups of coffee, smoke 2 cigarettes, go on a brisk run, sit on my toilet, and it's literally like my asshole has been filled in with cement.
I saw my dad this weekend, and I talked to him about it - he says "man, that's what mastercleanse is all about! If you're worried, go get a coffee enema like Robin Quivers." (Subtle implication being that since I'm whining like a dumb bitch, why not go and act like one too? My dad is cool as fuck.)
So I considered it - might be a great fucking idea! If you can get through the horror of having some tube up there, can you imagine how incredible it would feel to have stuff from your childhood just REMOVED? Like what if you really did feel a few steps lighter, like when you first get your braces taken off.
Holy shit - look at the DEATH that's inside of you! What is all that shit doing up there? Shouldn't it be medically important to have it removed? Is that not just the most fucked up thing ever, that you still have shit from your teenage years inside of you?
I told my pop after reading a bit about it - why doesn't everyone have this done? He said, "Man are you crazy? Leave all that shit alone! Clear out your stomach lining and whatnot? You need all that shit!"
Well, it's gotten so bad that even my wife has started being nice: she can smell the life-insurance a few months away. I'm dead. I'm psyched out, and may never shit again. Nothing to do but pace like a shitty Socrates, calmly awaiting the toxicity of the waste.
20 comments:
WTF! i cannot believe i peeked at that "shit" -looks like old bacon strips and seaweed! and why are people lining it up on their toilet seats?!
Rx=check that stress level BN and up the fiber, get an abdominal massage, do yoga twists and drink lots of water.
Oh shit! Thank g-d for cash money, right? I live in a four-seater home, Jealous. Child has her own toilet. Wife uses the master bedroom throne ('cuz she's the master). I have a full-sized bathroom to myself in "the studio" (basement). I guess the house-cleaner takes care of all those shit basins because I haven't touched a toilet brush in nearly 8 years (interesting question, I'll ask the master).
It rains diamonds on me!
But your post, Blognigger, it brings so much back for me. Growing up in a two bedroom apartment with Bubbeh (*sniff*). One bathroom; universal ladies first rule and all. My dear regal grandmother making her regal shit/fart/?????? sounds that make a fucking sousaphone hip-hop Rastafarian bean-jam sound like a baby angel whispering in your ear as you go into the light for Jesus eternal. [My uncle shot up/nodded-off in that bathroom.]
More on her later over at my thing, but today is Bubbeh's birthday (*sniff*). She died 15 years ago but would have been 86 today, as I mentioned I grew up with her, just like President-elect Barack ('cept I got the black one, natch). One bathroom. Terrible "courtesy" fan. Oy.
Anyway, chicks demystified is a wondrous thing, isn't it? I expected Bubbeh (*sniff*) to sound like the Freedom Tower construction site Port-a-John stack but the chicks that I idealized in my youth? The chicks I would someday see naked (and who would someday see me naked)? Nope. They were going to be perfect. Forever.
As a dude growing up on Penthouse and scrambled pre-Cinemax era soft-core simulated cable sex (with a lot of kissing and a I swear I saw a hint of bush), a woman that I'd eventually "make the sweet love to" would be clean enough to eat off of, literally. Communion wafers and cocaine. I think the first time I heard my girlfriend fart, it was so *cute* you could have saved it in a Mason jar to sniff on important anniversaries. Perfect like our love. Forever!
Then I went to college. Dorms. Coed bathrooms. Game over.
I know! At first it was all, "Duuuude!!! Yer gwain to be DOin' it with CHICKS in the shower EVERY day!" On scholarship.
Nope. Although I had my share of shower "rise 'n shine" pussy (once) and beat it hard to glimpses of dorm neighbor titty (almost saw nipple once), nothing demystified women like the first time that I heard-smelled red hot hottie prime piece of ass Lori Dimond drop a greazy, manly, Marriott food service log (real name but she's probably married now). Boner over.
Brain resetting sequence: Oh yeah, they do that too, makes sense, I mean they are human animals just like me but it's so base and us guys joke about poo-poo all the time b-b-but a woman is different and she can have babies and nurse and someday feed me soup but GROSS if they SHIT they must really be something nasty to menstruate and if they shit and menstruate with all that blood and that's what those stains on Bubbeh's (*sniff*) sheets were then they are totally gross fucking animals like me. And I put my tongue in her....[LP s-s-s-scrath sound that makes no sense to anyone under 35]
[BLUE PILL]
[Flash forward 20 years. Henpecked househusband folding laundry, shakes his head as he folds wife's nasty shit-blood-??????-stained panties thinking this is all so normal and happy]
R.I.P. Bubbeh
Ah the fecally obsessed among us..
while there may be a need to occasionally take or push something up your ass to shit, the fact is nature takes care of the business, normally.
Shit removal therapy is almost the oldest medical scam- after medically necessitated jerking off,of course..this nonsense woud be mainstream otherwise.
Take a look at your 401 this morning. Scare that shit out.
Go to duane reade and ask for GolyTely. I would say fleet phosasoda but it just got recalled for killing people.
You will shit your lungs out. I've had to take it before getting a colonoscopy (i'm a jew so, u know).
Every last thing in the history of things will come out. It's nutso. Do it, will make for a good blog entry.
the end
I didn't need to shit before reading this, but now I do.
Hold up, motherfucker...are you saying you shit out David Dinkins?!? You racist faggot! Whaddya do, call your kids "shitskins"? Self-hating sonofabitch!
Look dude, I can take a shit on the rim of my toilet seat too...that doesn't really mean a lot. I like the way some of those people clearly started doing that routinely... And if I ate an inner tube I guess I could take a picture of it and...well that one is pretty fucked up I admit.
People eat overprocessed garbage with no fiber and wonder why they crap so infrequently. I dunno what it is but I can identify everything that comes out and match it to what I ate and when. Sometimes in a matter of three hours.
Tell you what...go get a couple of grapefruits--if that's counterindicated by your meds then get three big oranges. Fucken eat them up. Tell me you don't see little citrus fragments floating around within a day.
Every time I go into a library, I immediately have to take a monster deuce. It's specifically libraries, not bookstores or any other place with books. I'm not a big 'public-dumper', my starfish clenches up tight when I'm in a public stall and I hear someone else come in, god forbid I let loose a audible shart in front of another human. I had to literally train myself to go in and be able to shit in the library or I couldn't get any work done. I started getting to the library ten or fifteen minutes early to make sure I had time to find the most secluded bathroom in the whole place and get in there like the phantom shitter I am and do my biz before anyone knew I had been through.
ps- just taught my spelling auto-correct how to spell shart.
Same thing happened to me once. We were at Coachella in Cali doing the music festival thing and camping out. The 'facilities' provided were these horribly abused port o john's that you could literally smell 50 feet away as you approached them. I was so scared of having to shit in one of those stank plastic hippie outhouses that my body seized up and I couldn't shit. Problem is it lasted a week even after the festival was over. Same thing was happening to my friend. We got scared, ate high fiber food drank mad water and that still didn't help. Then we got scared about eating at all. Where the fuck was all this food going? Story has a happy ending: we get home and in the comfort of familiar surroundings I shat a weeks worth in one sitting. Like you said: its all mental. Find your happy place dude.
I had issues too. I cut out all processed foods, sugar, caffeine and dairy from my diet and now I dump regularly and the movements always look healthy. Also, for real, buy your wife a little pad and pen set to keep in there. She can scribble while she's shitting and leave the note for you. No verbal diarrhea to stress you out that way. if a guy did that to me, i would not allow him first-bathroom rights anymore. While i'm thinking of solutions, do you have a backyard? You might want to try shitting back there. There's something liberating about shitting naked in the back yard. Frees the bowels up. if you and your wife could do it together, even better.
Finally, very funny shit. As usual.
Just try eating one of anything I've seen you eat ever. Make an Empire run and you'll be serving your own egg roll!
If you suddenly stop blogging we'll all know you died of shit impaction.
Damn dude, first rule of my house, Daddy takes 20min dumps. Whether or not the house is on fire. If the bitch starts talking to me while I do my biz I yell "I'M TAKING A SHIT!" and she shuts the fuck up.
They already have your soul, balls and dignity. They can't take a man's right for long defecation.
Pop a Colace or two, shitle slide right the fuck out. You'll wanna take pix and show your friends. Doesn't count though. Performance enhancing drugs*.
I had colon hydrotherapy because I was dating a Vegan Rasta for a minute (never again) and it was the best thing in the world. Made food taste better, stopped my smoker's cough and I lost weight (all that poo) but I became too regular - had to eliminate after EVERY meal like my german shepherd. It's worth it though. You don't have to see or smell anything and you get an abdominal massage for 45 minutes. Hope everything comes out alright!
www.gebhetepwholisticcenter.com
Happy Birthday Bubbeh!
People can talk about their shit for hours. Hence the terms "boring as shit", "same old shit", etc...
3 words:
Oat Bran Pill
http://www.iherb.com/ProductDetails.aspx?pid=728&at=0
Funny shit as usual my friend.
jesus tap-dancing christ! colonix??? WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD WAS THAT STUFF IN THE PICTURES??? do we all have that stuff inside us??? how did it all stay stuck together in a two-foot strand??? oh my fucking god. I am going to get colon hydrotherapy stat and that is something I NEVER ever considered. are we sure those people weren't actually shitting out body parts?
It never fails: poop is funny.
You won't die from one week's worth. You should talk to Tracie Egan though because she has had that problem for a while and even put a video of herself getting that water cleansing thing. She said she had 2 weeks worth, i.e. 15 pounds of shit removed!
For the smell, forget the spray. Light a match-it works much better.
That disgusting stuff in the photos is actually made in your intestines by the very product that website is trying to sell, Colonix, or whatever they're calling it. It contains an absorbent clay-like substance called bentonite, which is similar to -- swear to god -- kitty litter, and so when you ingest that and your body processes it and mixes it together with all the other stuff you eat, it coheres in your intestinal tract and makes that gross looking catgut shit. Then you poo it out and think you've saved your colon with some kind of miracle drug, when in fact, you've just gotten rid of the junk you put in yourself.
So basically, don't worry; you don't currently have that in you unless you've recently taken that website's "cleansing" product.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bentonite
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