hair back there

People don't talk much about butt hair - hair within the butt crack/butt hole territory, as opposed hair on the cheeks of the butt.  I understand why, it's not a particularly pleasant subject.  I've never (as far as I can remember) discussed it here.  Recently, I've been noticing my butt hair, which is never a good thing.  For some possibly vestigial reason, it's good that it's there, but being overly aware of it is probably coterminous with not feeling like your butt is well-cleaned.  And recently that's the feeling that I've had - Lady Macbeth like, feeling like no amount of wiping or rinsing will make your butt clean.  So you start to blame the hair.  And once or twice or whatever, when you're a younger person, you're like, I'll do something about it, I'll trim that damned butt hair!  And you realize that that in and of itself is a tricky proposition, but you give it a go, get some hairs out of there with a small scissor or what have you, only to realize mostly you just feel self-conscious and your butt apparatus doesn't feel or work any differently.  No, trimming is not the way to go.  Really, these times when you're all noticing the butt are just meant to be waited out.  Maybe some day I'll have longer butt hair and this won't be the case any more, action will be necessary, but for now, I just wait it out.

smell-semblance

Last night I took a dump that was uncharacteristically long for me.  I had crapped only once previously during the day, a moderate-on-all-fronts affair at work in the early afternoon.  I had that feeling from 11pm or so on that I ought to move my bowels but I just didn't really have the gumption to do so.  So I waited.  Around 12:30am, early this morning, I made my move, and this long snake of a stinker came out.

My nose caught something - it smelled just as if the dump had come not from me but from the other occupant of the apartment.  You live with someone for six years, you develop a sense of their usual fecal olfactory trail.

Now I've never visually witnessed my partner's stool, but anecdotally I believe it to be larger and sturdier, yes, longer than my own.  As I said, this turd of mine last night was lengthy, at least compared to my usual output.  So I wonder: does shape of poop imply smell?  Is there a connection there?  I oughta stand to reason that eating certain things would produce a.) certain consistencies of stool b.) certain smells of stool.  So it's feasible.

If this is the case, in honor of Halloween, I'd like to suggest "poop impressions" as a thing.  You adopt someone's diet for a week or so and make your stool seem like theirs.  Maybe the micro-organisms will start to notice and really appreciate your sense of humor.

More in the Mail

Our loyal reader out of IL writes again.  Here's what he says:

Toilet paper: over or under.  An age old question.  I read a good book about this and recommended it a few months back, it was called Wiped.  It says: no agreement.  I guess for me over is the smarter way.  Under's not so bad though.  I don't have strong feelings about it.

I suppose this is a good place to mention that for the last five years I haven't used the wall-mounted system.  It's just rolls of toilet paper, stood up on the flat end, and you pick it up when you need it.  I had a roommate in college who found this gross, thinking that whatever was going on with your non-dominant hand was probably not very clean.  I try not to worry about it.  The wall mount unit, where it is in my bathroom, is just too low to make sense.  And there's a good shelf right there.  So that's what my life is like.

But yeah, generally I think over is a little smoother, a little nicer flow.

Correspondences

We've never taken postcard questions before here on the DDB, but there's first time for everything!  We got this missive from a human in the great state of Illinois:

The gist of the question from WIPE is, are toilet manufacturing engineers shoe-horning our bathroom behavior?  I'm torn.  I love efficiency, and I can relate to the product designer who crunches numbers and determines the most likely outcomes with the product they're producing.  I also respect the technocrat who determines the optimal usage for a product and then makes that product difficult to use otherwise, who encourages optimal behavior.  I relate to those impulses of gentle paternalism.  I'm no libertarian.  However, I also believe in basic freedoms where one is most sensitive, and more over I believe that if you can do something without using electricity, it's always better than doing it with electricity.  So I'll say this, WIPE, electric flush toilets are inferior products.  Hands free in the bathroom is nice, but that's where foot pedals are useful, if you're into that kind of thing.  People abuse the flushing of old fashioned toilets, but they do this plenty to new fangled ones as well.

I support your erect wiping research, and I hope you keep us posted.  There's nothing worse than an electro toilet thinking your down and getting your ass all wet with a mixture of water and poo.  On that we can all agree.

Also, someone recently suggested to me that men are perceived as sit down wipers and ladies as stand up wipers.  I don't have the data on this.  Myself, I sit down about 80-90% of the time, thought I'd never exclusively stand up, it's like a finishing maneuver.

I hope this helps and would love to hear all thoughts on the subject!
-Dave

Nothing like taking a big dump to make a young man feel strong and muscular.

In Support of Bravery

Let us praise those particles who, when the rest of the stool settles for the bottom of the bowl, bravely rise above and float to the top of the water line.  Why do they do it?  Where do they find the strength?  We mere mortals are not blessed with this knowledge, but we are given hearts to appreciate such steadfast courage.

office poo research

One Jacob B, a wonderful man who's known me since I was not yet a person, wrote a fine novel called The Bend of the World.  It's about Pittsburgh, about friendship, about paranoia, about saying yes to things because it's easier that way, about the escalation of suspicion into something more sinister.  Et cetera.  It's great.  Anyway, there's a fine thought by Peter, the narrator, on having a great office to shit in, and I share it with you below.

small and knobby

Just passed a turd that was small and dense. It came out in slow motion, sort of like when a printer is printing something hi res and it takes a long, steady trip to get it done. And then there was nothing more in my colon.

it's no fun

I've been keeping this channel quiet of late.  It's just that it's no fun right now.  Having some butt issues that are common throughout humanity but new to me.  It's just uncomfortable, and it takes the fun out of pooping.  There's a whole range of new experiences, but I don't care to share them right now.  Maybe at a later time.  But I feel like I'm getting better.  Here's to better butt times.

Poop one well for your boy,
- D

From Airports in the Past

There's something really beautiful about the steady stream of guys pooping in stalls in airport bathrooms. Patiently waiting while others use the urinal, getting in there, blasting a dook, having a little privacy. I'm doing it right now!

multiple Alberta takes

In Calgary, I took a great many little poops.

I'm Edmonton, it was fewer, more significant poops. One such Edmonton poop occurred in perhaps the finest bathroom I have ever known. It happened in a church. The bathroom, or washroom as the signs say up here, was a single-occupant model. It featured a comfortable toilet, a floor urinal (the best kind), two sinks, a choice of two hand soaps, and a lot of art on the walls. There was a general feeling of privacy and calmness that prevailed there. A feeling that your dookus was been dooked in a respectful environment. An honor to have crapped there.

Canadleroo Doo Doo

My first poop in Canada in six years. A small one. More substantial poops shall be had in this substantial country.  Will keep you posted.

Once, at age 15, I didn't poop for a week in Canada. My first time there. In the woods, way up north. I was scared. I wasn't up to the wood-pooping task at that time. At present, that idea, not pooping for a week, seems simply ludicrous. Why? How? A kind a catharsis I hope to never have again. That was early Canadian pooping, or lack thereof.

Of course, it would be amazing to not have to poop.  Ever.  From the perspective of managing and reducing waste, it would be a terrific blessing.  Lately, I feel like I'm wasting things when I have to use water and paper to clean up after taking a BM.  I am, more or less, as much as anyone else is.  But to poop is to think.  I shan't give that up.  To poop is to welcome opportunity.

I'm not sure where the acceptable amount of waste ends in this world.  I'm not certain that I'm thinking as much as I should be, either.  And all of this can be measured in stools.  Time to start trying harder.

Poo poo scrapies

It's not scabies, it's not rabies, and it's kind of scrappy.
I'm thinking about how the English language lacks a word (that I know of) for the little turd marks that get left behind on the toilet bowl after the flushing of a particularly vigorous crap.  Skid marks works in a metaphorical sense, but I feel like the colloquial use of skid marks is too tied to marks left in the undergarments at present, doubling up on meanings seems short-sighted.  So I suggest "scrapies".  It's not perfect, but it's evocative of poo scraping down the side of the toilet bowl as it goes, and it has the air of residue.

Some test cases:

It's hard to look dignified when people have seen your scrapies.

or

What's less aesthetically pleasing, scrapies on a white toilet bowl or scrapies on a pastel-colored one, say pink or turquoise?

Delivered One Day Late

Today's second dump: very sulfur-smelling.  Not steamy at all, in my current parlance.

More optimism from Dave

For I am an artist and this nice clean toilet bowl will be my canvas today.

To Wipe the Unwipeable Shite

I took a poop at a respected music venue tonight.  They have a stall in the men's room that has within it a sink.  I love pooping there.  Washing one's hands before putting all one's things back on is a great luxury.

It was right about 8pm and the show figured to start at 10 after.  I did the pushing out pretty quick-like but then there was some clean up to do.  The toilet paper was pretty unsatisfactory, too thin (and I like thinner stuff in general).  Didn't fold up into a useable wad as I'd like.  I needed more wipes than I'm accustomed to.  Bummed, so to speak.  It was taking a while.  I had to stand up to get better leverage.  I kind of rushed it.  Cleaned up, went in and saw the show, got in just as they closed the doors.

There's the sitting down thing that happens when you maybe haven't wiped A+ level, and you're kind of like, I'm probably just getting shit on myself or my undies or whatever.  And you're probably not, but you feel like you are.  Maybe you stand up (or refuse to sit) more than you normally would because you don't want to chance it and think if you can wait 15 minutes and wipe again everything will be fine.

Show ended, I didn't go running back to the bathroom.  Went to a bar with a friend, ordered my drink, and immediately went to the loo.  Occupied.  So I had to sit down again.  Played it cool.  Got in the john eventually, did a little more wiping without any more pushing out.  Had a remnant or two.  It was the pocket feeling, like there's a pocket of gooey waste around your butthole that can produce ad infinitum.  I did the best I could in a cramped bar bathroom.  Felt fine.

Was just peeing back at home and I thought, let's take an exploratory wipe, see what happens.  Sure enough, still some detritus back there.  Will it ever end?  Maybe this just goes until shower time tomorrow.  These are ridiculous shits, when this happens.

Media Tip #2

For a good read, on the crapper or otherwise, check out Ronald Blumer's fine new book Wiped: The Curious History of Toilet Paper.  It came my way because, well, when you operate a blog about dookies these things tend to make their way towards you, and while it's a modestly sized, self-published looking thingie, it's got a lot of insight and a lot of heart.  Not all of the book is about toilet paper per se, there's some fine comparisons between paper & hand wiping, talk about the history of plumbing, and things of that nature.  But it made me want to talk about these subjects with other people and analyze the systems that deal with our shit today (and those of the past as well), so it's a winner to me.  Sure to make you think.  Possibly will also make you poop.

this is weird

At an "art supply" store.

I would not utilize such a product, despite my enthusiasm for turds.  A little too cutesy, in the words of Anthony Braxton.

Media Tip #1

If you listen to this, you'll hear a song called "I'm Gonna Poop Into a Wormhole".  Which is great:

http://www.onthemedia.org/story/tldr-hundred-songs/

The Toilet Bowl Cleaners is the name of the band I believe.