Wednesday, January 27, 2016

stool in multiple senses

It's been a choppy time of late.  I feel like I can't get a clear line on it.  The sitting position I take for taking a dump just doesn't feel right, and things come out not cathartically and in many pieces.  I feel like I have more in there when I'm done.

I did have one pretty glorious one a few weeks back when I put my feet up on my partner's little box of menstrual products (don't tell her!).  Sort of squatting toilet style but with less dramatic angles.  Things opened up more with that one.  But other times I've tried that technique and it hasn't had as much success.  Maybe it's more a matter of diet right now.  Diet hasn't changed but you never know... has it?  I'm gonna keep investigating knee position and use of an additional stool (of sorts) to make things better.  The world is full of so many things & options.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

a few points

1. I have "pooped" about seven times today.  I'm defining pooping in this sense by the act of taking down my trousers, sitting on the john, and having something happen with my ass.  In the last two or three attempts, it's been just gas, no stool, that comes out.

2. This used to happen to me more.  Most memorably, one time when I was I'd guess 11, I shat 11 times in a day, including multiple times at a Pittsburgh Pirates game.  I remember bragging to my friend about how many times I'd shat.  Three Rivers Stadium did NOT have particularly nice bathrooms.  But that's not why the built the thing.  It's like the Guggenheim.

3. I can't remember the last time I shat more than 4 times in a day.  But 3 is really not unheard of.  This is just the upper edge of my range.  Maybe I'm not done yet, today I mean.

4. My tummy's been rumbly a few days.  I've been getting spikes of "oh go sit on the john now" since Sunday or so.  Actually on Sunday I got one in a rehearsal space in Williamsburg and had to go shit in the dark.  I turned the flashlight on my phone on and went into the bathroom, which lacks a working light, and it was totally fine.  But that is not a nice bathroom.  Nicer than the bathrooms at Death by Audio, when that was a thing.  But not objectively nice.

5. Tonight, I was at BAM, which has pretty nice bathrooms all told.  When people were applauding, I snuck out and went to the bathroom tucked 1/2 a floor below the mezzanine.  I let beautiful, enormous farts peel in chorus with the raising of numerous curtain calls.  THAT was a fun game.

6. Hopefully things'll calm down tomorrow.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

labyrinthine

Let me ask you a question.

No.  Let me tell you about myself.  Here is how I feel.

I take a shit, and I'm wiping my ass.  I use small bits of TP, like ~2 squares at a time (I prefer one-ply).  And the first few wipes are where you get the big cleaning done.  After the 3rd wipe, let's say, it's really just fine detail cleaning work.  And a relatively clean shit, you might only need 2 or 3 wipes.  But then, there are more frustrating ones, where you think you've got it all covered, and you discover another pocket of remaining fecal matter.  And you're going like 10 wipes deep on that.  Because you don't want to be incomplete and get shit on yourself and your clothes, right?

I'm no doctor, I don't know exactly how the stuff that you're wiping up gets there etc.  But sometimes I feel like either I pooped it out all wrong that these little reserve pockets keep presenting themselves afresh when I already thought I was in the end game, or that I just have particularly labyrinthine lower bowels.  Both may be true.

Do you ever feel this way?  It's a lousy feeling because it's the feeling of having finished something being revoked, like, you weren't diligent enough.  And I don't really like editing, I'd rather just get the idea out all at once and not have to revise.  And this is a form of revising.  So nerts to that.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Regal Hierarchy

My morning dumps of late have me thinking that the morning dump is like a king, where other dumps throughout the day are mere princelings.  Something like an 18th Century map of Germany could be made every day from the reality of my dumps.  Or maybe farther back in Italy with el papa being the morning dump and the others being smaller dukedoms or what have you.  All hail the morning dump, rex imperator.

Friday, July 17, 2015

Just once

I have only shat in a garbage can once, to date.

That is all.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

P.P. Buster

I know this isn't a blog about pee, but I can't help myself.  This was really remarkable:

I'm in Nashville, I'm in a bar that rewards people for drinking its full selection of beers with something on the wall.  I, for the record, had had one cider to drink, but as usual I had to pee a lot.  Clear and copious, as wise friend used to advise me.

Anyway, I'm at the urinal, letting out a rather generous stream of urine, and a gentleman comes up next to me, also starts peeing.  He does that thing that many guys do these days - he spits when we starts peeing.  As far as I can tell, he missed his dork with that spit (something I always wonder about when I see men do this).  I keep peeing, but I notice he spits again.  And ten seconds later, again.  And then by the fourth spit, I'm like WHAT'S GOING ON HERE, MATE?  All I can think is, will he go to five?  Will he go to five?  And at last, yes, he does, he spits for a fifth time, whilst urine is still leaking out of him.  That was all he had, no more spits after the fifth.

But seriously, what the fuck are guys doing when they spit while they pee at a urine?  If they were doubly aiming for something, I could get that, but I just don't know.  Many spitters, many reasons, but if you've got some insight, do let me know.

The finishing touch - dude finished his pee and the next guy after him immediately stepped up and spat before whipping it out to relieve himself.  Maybe it's that urinal.  And yes, I had a colossally long pee during which to watch all of this take place.

Monday, June 29, 2015

bathroom haiku

This morning at work
a lavender-scented dump
I didn't make it

(came into my head just before I peed a little on my belt)