gasss

I've got the craps! The loud, gassy, liquidy craps! Woooooooo!

a promise

I've seen some pretty good concerts at Death by Audio. I would say that I like it there, hard as it is to locate. However, from the first time I went there, I've kept a vow to myself never to poop there. The bathrooms were clearly constructed as an afterthought, they're your classic converted loft bathrooms, up a step or two from the floor. They're covered in art, which is nice, but the toilet seats are cracked, there's a kind of moisture that hangs in the air, what toilet paper there is tends to live on the sink (which often seems questionable itself). The doors do lock reliably, I'll give them that, but really, it's not a great place for it. To paraphrase Triumph, it would be like pooping on poop.
Last night, I was there once again, listening and participating in a show. I was gassy, perhaps from some eggs with beets (not from this), but I was determined to wait it out. I will cop to having farted a good bit in there, but I did not poop. Ergo, this is a post about not pooping, but it was a triumph.

recent prunes

Now, I've never been a person who notices changes in my bowels based on what food(s) I eat. I just press on. There may be great fluctuation in my digestive cycle, but I don't really pay much nevermind. My policy is, eat what you want to eat, and unless things are really explosive or backed up, you're probably doing fine.

Also, I love prunes. Recent discovery. My first purchase was at Elly's Market one night a year or two ago, and now whenever I go to Sahadi's, I get a pound or a half-pound of prunes (with pits). Last time I went there, the prunes they gave me were (and are) massive. Usually, I eat two prunes in the morning if I remember they're there, which is about every third day. I may not pay attention to my eat/doo-doo correlations, but neither do I want to tempt fate. Anyway, these prunes are so large that I can only eat one at a time. I got a pound and I'm about halfway through. I think I'll go eat one right now...

pockets

I had what felt like a great crap today after dinner. I thought of a metaphor at the time of a pocket. Sort of a play on the idea of being "in the pocket" as they say in music. It was as if I had found a pocket at the end of my digestive track and gotten not just the contents but all the little lint out of it, everything was out of there. Wow. The back, lower part of my body was the lightest part of my body. It was heavenly. I was floating.

But then I went into a concert. Halfway through, I had a headache but couldn't get out to take some Advil. So I sat, and it started to be a little migraine-y. Still kind of is. But then the poopy feeling started coming back. I've had maybe three, four migraines in my life, but I find there's a certain connection between them and the digestive ouchies. My pocket feeling became a thing of the past, and there's some grumbling going on back there. Woosh.