𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝒷𝓈𝒾𝓉𝑒! 𝒲𝑜𝓌 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝑔𝑒, 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒? 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝓊𝓃𝒸𝒽; 𝐼 𝑜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒜𝓃𝓎𝒽𝑜𝓌, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝓈𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁, 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝒷𝓅𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝒷 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓌𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓈𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌, 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝓊𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹, 𝒾𝒻 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓎, *𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔* (𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓀-𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓀) 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉𝓈. 𝒪𝒽, 𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑜, 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒'𝓈 𝒥𝑒𝒻𝒻 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒫𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓁𝓅𝒽𝒾𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝒪𝒦, 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝑒... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃' 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃'! 𝒞𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃'... 𝒮𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃'...𝒶𝒽, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒻𝒻 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓂𝑜. 𝒜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑜𝓅-𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓌, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒽𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓊𝓂𝒷 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒿𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓈 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈. 𝐻𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝒢𝑜𝒷 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈. 💨🤢
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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