Sunday, June 16, 2019

small thought

Older guys, wearing New Balance sneakers (you know which ones), taking dumps and making sounds in bathrooms with multiple stalls. That is all.

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

poop scoop

When you live with other people, and you only have one bathroom, there is the inevitability that one of you will be pooping while another person feels the pangs of needing to. It's rough stuff, but you get through it.

Recently, the timing of things has worked out such that my partner & roommate of many years has been scooping me on the bathroom, has been getting in there just as I find myself needing the shit the most. There is no blame, it's just something to pay attention to in the way sabremetric baseball people analyize hit clusters (if you hit 9 singles in an inning, you'll score a lot of runs, but if you hit 9 singles spread out over 9 innings, you probably won't). Pooping analytics.

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

work perk

Something I like in a working set up, not just an office, but a place you work, broadly defined (could be a coffee shop, a library, someone across the street whose apartment you can see into, etc), is when you have a perch that helps you be aware of who's dumping and when. It's none of my business, and I'm not gonna say anything, but it makes me feel like I know people better when I get a little sense of their dumping goings-on.

Friday, May 24, 2019

DDB endorses

I have been made aware of the cool thing that is Buttcon, to be held once again this summer in Detroit. Buttcon Buttcon Buttcon. Lots of art and thoughts and feelings about butts. A hearty endorsement over here from Doo Doo Bloggin for the work they're doing! And they're making a zine that may well have some writing from a familiar source in it... stay tuned! And read up on Buttcon!

Friday, April 12, 2019

doo doo grillin

I'm thinking of starting a spin off lifestyle blog to Doo Doo Bloggin called Doo Doo Grillin.

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

teenage fears

The way that your memory compresses things decades back is nothing strange. I'm thinking about how many years other people wipe your butt for you, and then when you do learn, how many years it takes you to be consistently good at it. Once you are entrusted with the responsibility of wiping your own ass and adult undergarments, there's gonna be some years with the occasional skid mark. It just takes some time to perfect.

When I was, let's say, 12-18, that period of non-mastery really stuck with me. It was a decade or less since I had figured out wiping my own ass. The last time I shit my pants was age 10. I probably had an occasional skid mark here or there, as even still as an adult, sometimes I do a less than bang-up job.

But the thing about ages 12-18 or so was that I was constantly worried that I'd wiped insufficiently and there was still some shit residue. I felt I was singularly bad at wiping, and that as a result I always smelled kind of like shit. I have always been a sitting down wiper, but I might end with a couple standing up "power moves" to make sure it's all gone. I actually still do that some times. I overwipe these days not uncommonly, I know I'm fine but I keep going.

I remember being around a friend when I was 14 who had a bad smell and thinking, oh, he must also be bad at wiping his ass. I made fun of him to project these insecurities, it really got to him. I probably smelled fine.

In high school, I thought about who was sitting behind me, and how they must smell my ass-smell. I'm pretty sure they didn't. It was also a time when I had long hair and I wanted very badly for my hair to retain shampoo smell (I used Herbal Essences, they advertised a lot then) the way female friends of mine's hair did. I wanted the good hair smell to stay, but thought only the shit particle smell was there. It was a very smell sensitive time.

My freshman year of college, I remember being mooned through a large pane of glass by a friend. I jokingly yelled at him "you should learn to wipe properly", conveying one of my own secret concerns. But then this fear just kind of fell away later that year. No precipitating incident I can remember for that, it just fell away. There is no perfect ass wiping, but I do a good enough job and I feel solid in that now. The memory of the fear is something that's lurking in the back of my mind.

Monday, March 25, 2019

a great euphenism

At a record fair yesterday, a friend and I agreed that "putting out a seven inch" would be a great euphemism for taking a shit, a large shit. "Putting out a twelve inch" just seems preposterous given how shit comes out of me, but hey, others do things their way. After you were done, you could say "I just dropped a seven inch".