t.w. sensitive #content ahead


I want to talk about defecation; please don't snicker, snort, or exit the tab in a huff. For pooping, for pooping... is a dance.

The public poop vs. homefield advantage deposit is not a debate, and I don't seek to open it up to one (that would be INSANE). But the dynamics of why this is such is certainly worth exploring.

After spending a week (5 nights) camping at a state park in Delaware, I can say without prejudice that the levels humankind are willing to debase themselves at in the good name of getting back to the nature is, for lack of a better word, f r i g h t e n i n g.

If going poop is a dance then the public restroom arena is the equivalent of spending 30 seconds in a moshpit before taking a stray boot to the mug and retreating the corner with a nose exploding blood. It's a race against the clock, and the inevitable is always lurking. I witnessed (or rather: heard) a dozen men embarrass themselves without (seemingly) a shred of self-consciousness (or rather: shame). And shame is the right word. What do we make of the airplane, the internet, the Roomba®, the fast food drive-thru, if we can't all agree that this is no way to live?

There is a purgatory here, the land of the hotel/motel and the Air BnB (room share model). The level of distress experienced here is directly correlated with two factors: A) the volume of one's travel schedule, B) [much bigger factor] multitude of guests.

But nothing beats the home shit. It's your stadium and every molecule is a screaming fan rooting you on. You're allowed to showboat; there will be no penalty. Touchdown.

And so that's it. My post about shitting is complete. I never have to bring this topic up again in any capacity, on any forum, or with any sentient being. My work is finished. /WIPE