Tuesday, August 15, 2017


It's worth saying again, or maybe this is the first time I'm saying it, that I'm always tickled and baffled by people who have a clear sense of "if I eat this, it will make my bowels react like X".  I go about my eating as if it had nothing to do with my shitting (and as someone who farts very little, that's not much of a factor either).  Maybe people think this about cheese, or bread, or meat, or certain vegetables?  I don't know.

One time I ate a bunch of cherries and had to shit shortly after and thought the two might be related.

Also there's a great Nigerian restaurant I go to sometimes that when I get the pepper soup, I can tell when that's the thing that coming out of my butt.

But other than those two things, it's all blissfully unconnected for me.  Perhaps it's because there are few forms of fecal output that stress me out.  I'm okay with some loose stool if that's the price for food I want.  Seems like stomach pain would be more of a deterrent to me, various forms of stool are mostly interesting, not daunting.

All this is despite all my dietary mishegas, which is essentially about cause and effect.  But blessedly, so far for me, none of the effect things are digestion-based.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

shit or get off the

I love the easy clarity of when an entire office wordlessly decides that one bathroom is meant for dumping only.

Monday, June 12, 2017

a big one

I was recently in a hospital for ~72 hrs. Shitting was a central part of why I was there. There’s so much to unpack about this experience, but the big obstacle is that hospital time is quite different from regular time.

Let’s say you're at work. You’re doing your work thing, work work work work work, and then you have to shit. You psych yourself up, pick your temporal spot, and then shit time is the special time, it flows differently from the work time. It’s a kind of reverie, a kind of luxuriating. It’s private, it’s yours, and you can choose to do with it what you want. I usually choose to savor it, pretty much every time. No phone, no productivity, just shitting.

At the peak of my hospital stay, I was shitting (and by that I mean some yellow liquid was coming out of my ass) about every 20 min. Sometimes I would wrap up in there only to get back on my hospital bed, feel that feeling again, and say yeah I gotta go back in there. The frequency with which I shat was like the frequency you might blow your nose 2/3 of the way through a cold. Not luxuriating to be found in that. The quality of time there is totally different. I probably put ass-to-crapper 65 times in that hospital. None of them stand out.

At one point in the midst of the torrent, I decided it might be helpful to take off my underwear & hospital socks (I was otherwise wearing only a gown). That was in the period where the stomach pain was higher, and the casting off of the clothing was like a casting off of pain, or an aspiration to do that. You think about when you’re young and you learn that different people have different shitting rituals, and some involve taking off a lot of clothes. You’re fishing around for something that might help. Maybe it helped a little, hard to say. Mostly, at that point, my body felt fine, but every 30 min or whatever I’d get a little discomfort in my stomach and if I waited, my colon would start to tingle. The watery dump would be out with 2 seconds of getting my ass in place. Another 3-4 min would follow with a little pushing and not much coming out. The kind of status quo you want to alter.

At one point I emerged from the bathroom and said to those present, “pooping really does make me feel good”, or, however you were feeling before, take a shit and you’ll feel better, something like that sentiment. Then came some more painful ones that made me question that sentiment. Whoops. Generally a true statement though as far as I’m concerned.

At one point, my S.O. thoughtfully asked “how’s your asshole?” and, she was amazed to learn it was holding up AOK despite the steady outflow & wiping burden placed upon it. Really no adverse effects in that department, happy to report.

With some targeted antibiotics in my system, the works were slowing down but things were still pretty loose. Before I left the hospital, I did have one shit that was bright green that looked like a cross between a hydra and a floret of broccoli. I was pretty proud of that one. It’s hard to frame these things though. I also had one really nice shit too that I likened to a road that can car, bike, and rail traffic all at once - there was a solid part, followed by a loose part, then chased by some water. 3 in 1 stool!

After returning home, things having solidified a little, I did have a moment where I sat on the crapper for 10 minutes, pushing, and nothing came out. I was humiliated and sore and sad. And I was like, wait, is this constipation? Next time, things came out just fine, but the point is that for all my shitting, I have never really known constipation, and even 10 min of it humbled me. So props to you stopped-up poopers out there, we have very different lives you & I.

Anyway, things are pretty much back to normal now. I took a real big turd at work today. It felt like a solid all the way through affair, but when I flushed, the logs broke into so much dust and algae. It’s like a straw man dump. Ersatz solid dump. I wonder what this means.

PS I got all this by consuming something that had some human doo doo in it. So be careful out there friends!

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

echo chamber

I was just in the UK.  I hadn't been to Europe in 4 years and I forgot about the differences in common Euro toilets compared to US ones.  I'm sure others could write more authoritatively than I, but one thing I noticed is that the more cavernous shape and less water really amplifies things.  So if you're used to crapping in a US commode, shitting in Europe makes you feel like all your dumps are really big dumps.  Based on the sound.  And maybe that might make you feel good about yourself.

Friday, May 19, 2017

big shit data

DDB reader EMS passes along the site of a fellow traveler.  This is truly some impressive work, and you should check it out:
Not that data is everything, but it's nice to see the current work outlook on data applied to something truly shitty.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Dumplock Holmes

Sometimes I consider myself a forensic dumpologist.  An amateur forensic dumpologist, of course.  No one pays me for my time and my insights.  In other words I like to think about the mechanics of the bathroom.

Some times you think, did that person take a dump?  And then you use some visual and olfactory clues to see if they did.  Not because they did something wrong or gross, just that the biographical info of where and how this person dumps are general things they're unlikely to share with you in conversation.  Maybe you notice some dump marks on the toilet bowl, and you have insights into the size and consistency of their dump (e.g. it was massive and solid enough to leave marks).  Maybe you have sonic clues to help you interpret things as well.  That's always kind of nice.  Maybe you gain insights into this person's routine, how chaotic their life in their home is, etc.

It's not that I'm trying to solve anything, it's that the acquisition of information is an end in and of itself.  And dump info is often pretty fleeting.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Why Not Me?

Dumping is full of so much potential optimism.  There is so much potential for plenty, every day.  In getting ready to shit today, I was walking to the bathroom, and I was thinking, "why not me? why can I not be prodigious? why should today not be my day to dump the most?".  Forget the conservative ideas you know and let you mind and your bowels aspire to greatness.  You can be the shitter you want to be, it can be you, or me, or any of us.

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

passing it on

It strikes me that there are but few inflection points in this life we have for interrogating one's wiping style.

  1. When you're first learning to wipe, you get a particular philosophy.  Maybe a couple from multiple parents or people who are around you.
  2. Your body grows and your fine motor skills improve and you refine these techniques (probably without thinking about).
  3. If you have a physical condition that prevents you from executing your earlier techniques, you evaluate what was, what can be now, and make some adjustments.
  4. You are responsible for teaching a young child how to wipe.  Perhaps having an external eye on this makes you re-evaluate your own techniques.  Or maybe you propose one method and another person rearing this child proposes another.  And you have to debate pros and cons of different styles.  Strips or wads?  Standing or sitting?  Wet or dry?
I like the idea of people raising a kid just as a way to revisit how wise their ass wiping techniques are.  A great sideways reason I think.  Bold.

I've been getting a lot of ripped TP when I wipe of late.  It's not my favorite, but I haven't changed it up.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

dumpstream media

This here blog is a pretty reasonable forum to talk about feces.  Assuming certain things about "politeness" or whatever, that is.  People who wanna come here and read up do, and those who don't dig doo doo simply stay away.  But it's nice to see some mainstreaming of talking about shit, particularly from a funny lady.  So I was chuffed to see this fecally focused personal essay, that deals with such things as the pleasures of taking a dump while strolling about in public, in the New York Times.  Good onya NYT and good onya Rachel.