Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Before You Ask
Yes, the landlords are renovating the bathroom in our cottage. No, it is not because of anything I ate. And this is a picture of Mars, not my toilet.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Head for the Hills
I'm on vacation in the Midwest. This is cause for concern for plumbers, cause for joy among organic meat herders, and cause for terror among toilets. I've lost track of the amount of meat sandwiches I have consumed in the last few days, but I haven't lost track of the number of shattered, post-apocalyptic, dystopian bathrooms I have left in my wake.
Three:
At a place called First Watch outside of Westlake, Ohio.
At Lady Chemisty's ancestral home in Iowa.
And, finally, at my expedition headquarters in Wisconsin.
The last one was so bad I had to retreat to the second floor until the gas dissipated. I saw three men huddled in a crater in the living room die when they removed their masks too early. President Obama is rumored to be debating the legality of declaring my butt a national threat.
I am worried for my family, as my parents, despite being rocks, tend to eat a high fiber diet. I am worried that some may not survive this coming week.
Three:
At a place called First Watch outside of Westlake, Ohio.
At Lady Chemisty's ancestral home in Iowa.
And, finally, at my expedition headquarters in Wisconsin.
The last one was so bad I had to retreat to the second floor until the gas dissipated. I saw three men huddled in a crater in the living room die when they removed their masks too early. President Obama is rumored to be debating the legality of declaring my butt a national threat.
I am worried for my family, as my parents, despite being rocks, tend to eat a high fiber diet. I am worried that some may not survive this coming week.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Thursday, September 20, 2007
OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT
XKCD warned us but I never knew how true a danger they are!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Fully Fecal Friday
This is not a story about my poo. This is a story about a time I needed to poo but was forced by events to hold it for a long walk. Post inspired by Unlawfully Wedded Wife.
It June 2005 and I was wandering around Hains Point with a friend1 about to leave for the Peace Corps. It was a lovely night, just the right temperature for walking around and not humid yet. We were talking about whatever and checking out the half buried titan
when I got the idea that maybe I needed to find a bathroom.2 We take the photos that my friend wanted to take and then we proceed walking along the river heading back into the city. About half an hour later, I was in dire straits and my friend asked me if I was ok. I suggested we stop at the Jefferson Memorial and get some nice night photos of it and I would hit the bathroom there. It was pretty close and I figured that was a good cover.
When we got there, I asked a guard for the bathroom and he told me there were closing in five minutes. Not a problem. I had to ride the slowest elevator in the universe down one floor to the gift shop and bathrooms. I hustled over to the door in a struggle to move as fast as possible but without disturbing my bowels any more than necessary. The sight that greeted me upon pushing open the bathroom door will haunt my nightmares forever.
Someone had taken an enormous shit in the middle of the floor. I have seen some major turds in my day, and produced most of them, but this turd still makes me feel inadequate as a man. It was smeared all over the floor, too. I think some lunatic had tried to write something on the floor with his/her enormous pile. There were streaks and swirls that I associate with some form of hieroglyphics, New World or Old, or possibly cuneiform. Could have been cursive. I was shocked into stillness and my eyes meandered across the floor trying to process this rectal rorschact. I have never quite experienced a moment of complete mental stillness. It was the neural blue screen of death.
Then the stench hit me a mere second later like a supernova. The olfactory explosion was so potent I recoiled, rebounded, flew backward like a character in a silly action movie caught in the blastwave of some bomb, arms raised futilely in front of my face, itself expressing a revulsion so deep that cenotes look shallow.3 The scent was almost alive in the way that it chased me out of the gift shop. In less than a second, it had permeated my clothes to the point that my friend noticed it when I finally got back to street level. I said only, "It's not me." I found that now pitied guard and told him that someone had "violated" the bathroom and that I had been completely unable to use it and that I was deeply sorry for him. He said that he'd check it out. A few blocks away from the memorial, I swear I heard a wail of terror and fear echoing through the air.
My friend and I were now in the dead zone. The dead area downtown that closes at 8 pm and in which there are few buses, no cabs and no metro stops. We had a choice, walk three blocks to a 30 to 40 minute metro ride (most of that would be spent waiting) or walk for 30 to 40 minutes to my friend's apartment. We took the latter choice. I was now debating the relative merits of just dumping my load in a bush, but refused that option because I was not out camping.
I was now an hour overdue for my porcelain rendezvous and was hurting. I was sweating from the effort of keeping the iris closed. I was nervous because I knew the coming blowout was likely to permanently disfigure my friend's bathroom. I was still feeling the nauseating effects of the defiled bathroom.
I managed to hold it together and make it to my friend's apartment unsoiled and even managed to let her use the bathroom first. In even dire need, I'm still a gentleman. Besides, it gave me a chance to turn on her stereo really damn loud.4
1 Okay fine, I admit it. She was my girlfriend. Are you happy now? You're MARRIED!?! What the fuck? Wow. What the hell. Fucking everybody I know is married.
2 After years of world travel and eating odd foods, I know that when I get certain feelings I will need a bathroom in 20 minutes, 1 hour, etc and exactly the kind of episode it will be. This is an unebelievably helpful talent when you are driving through eastern Europe or Africa. Anywhere, really.
3 Later cultures would sacrifice virgins down the pit of my expression.
4 I doubt it helped.
It June 2005 and I was wandering around Hains Point with a friend1 about to leave for the Peace Corps. It was a lovely night, just the right temperature for walking around and not humid yet. We were talking about whatever and checking out the half buried titan
when I got the idea that maybe I needed to find a bathroom.2 We take the photos that my friend wanted to take and then we proceed walking along the river heading back into the city. About half an hour later, I was in dire straits and my friend asked me if I was ok. I suggested we stop at the Jefferson Memorial and get some nice night photos of it and I would hit the bathroom there. It was pretty close and I figured that was a good cover.
When we got there, I asked a guard for the bathroom and he told me there were closing in five minutes. Not a problem. I had to ride the slowest elevator in the universe down one floor to the gift shop and bathrooms. I hustled over to the door in a struggle to move as fast as possible but without disturbing my bowels any more than necessary. The sight that greeted me upon pushing open the bathroom door will haunt my nightmares forever.
Someone had taken an enormous shit in the middle of the floor. I have seen some major turds in my day, and produced most of them, but this turd still makes me feel inadequate as a man. It was smeared all over the floor, too. I think some lunatic had tried to write something on the floor with his/her enormous pile. There were streaks and swirls that I associate with some form of hieroglyphics, New World or Old, or possibly cuneiform. Could have been cursive. I was shocked into stillness and my eyes meandered across the floor trying to process this rectal rorschact. I have never quite experienced a moment of complete mental stillness. It was the neural blue screen of death.
Then the stench hit me a mere second later like a supernova. The olfactory explosion was so potent I recoiled, rebounded, flew backward like a character in a silly action movie caught in the blastwave of some bomb, arms raised futilely in front of my face, itself expressing a revulsion so deep that cenotes look shallow.3 The scent was almost alive in the way that it chased me out of the gift shop. In less than a second, it had permeated my clothes to the point that my friend noticed it when I finally got back to street level. I said only, "It's not me." I found that now pitied guard and told him that someone had "violated" the bathroom and that I had been completely unable to use it and that I was deeply sorry for him. He said that he'd check it out. A few blocks away from the memorial, I swear I heard a wail of terror and fear echoing through the air.
My friend and I were now in the dead zone. The dead area downtown that closes at 8 pm and in which there are few buses, no cabs and no metro stops. We had a choice, walk three blocks to a 30 to 40 minute metro ride (most of that would be spent waiting) or walk for 30 to 40 minutes to my friend's apartment. We took the latter choice. I was now debating the relative merits of just dumping my load in a bush, but refused that option because I was not out camping.
I was now an hour overdue for my porcelain rendezvous and was hurting. I was sweating from the effort of keeping the iris closed. I was nervous because I knew the coming blowout was likely to permanently disfigure my friend's bathroom. I was still feeling the nauseating effects of the defiled bathroom.
I managed to hold it together and make it to my friend's apartment unsoiled and even managed to let her use the bathroom first. In even dire need, I'm still a gentleman. Besides, it gave me a chance to turn on her stereo really damn loud.4
1 Okay fine, I admit it. She was my girlfriend. Are you happy now? You're MARRIED!?! What the fuck? Wow. What the hell. Fucking everybody I know is married.
2 After years of world travel and eating odd foods, I know that when I get certain feelings I will need a bathroom in 20 minutes, 1 hour, etc and exactly the kind of episode it will be. This is an unebelievably helpful talent when you are driving through eastern Europe or Africa. Anywhere, really.
3 Later cultures would sacrifice virgins down the pit of my expression.
4 I doubt it helped.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Speaking of Dirty Jobs, And Flowing Shit
1949 was a good year for DC. Lots of infrastructure expansion going on, homes being built, people moving into town. Homes have since been rebuilt, fixed up and generally well maintained. People have likewise been maintained. The roads and power system of DC and the surrounding area have been maintained as cheaply as possible which keeps costs down over the years, I guess. Unfortunately, the sewer systems in DC and Maryland have been shat on for the last 60 years. According to various articles, the sewer systems in DC and Maryland need a massive overhaul. I know it is FOX but check out this video. That last bit? The part where the guy says that rates are going to climb next year? Really looking forward to that. I am sure that my rent will be affected. I am paying the price for decades of neglect and an unsurprising lack of foresight by essentially everyone. That is the American Way, pass the check off to your children and grandchildren.
I am not angry that I have to pay it, someone did, but I will get angry if people don't start to fucking learn the lesson.
I am not angry that I have to pay it, someone did, but I will get angry if people don't start to fucking learn the lesson.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
This Shit is Out of Control
Two incidents last week were an odd counter point to the annoyance of general existence in DC.
Somebody shit all over the Capitol Building. I can almost sympathize with this. There I times that I want to take a dump for change. Or just poop on some Senators.
I also sympathize with the people that called the bomb squad and a hazmat team over a dirty diaper. Diapers are frigging lethal if left to ferment.
One point of outrage: the Virginia legislature and Governor's office are apparently determined to ignore the advice of urban planners and the will of the people. Tim fucking Kaine and the other fucking dipshits supporting the overhead version of the proposed Metro expansion in Virginia have their heads so far up their asses, they can see what they had for lunch two months ago. Let's look forward, jackasses, to the future that is coming whether you fucking like it or not. Gas is never getting cheaper. We will never be able to breath engine exhaust. Step up and take a stance that won't be regarded as boneheaded and ass backward for the next hundred years. Plan for those hundred years and bury the Metro line and create a pedestrian friendly Tyson's Corner. Help usher in a Northern Virginia that is ready for the population expansion of the future and the long delayed but inevitable cost of the automobile culture. Imagine a Virginia that doesn't require 45 minutes to travel three miles. Have some fucking foresight.
Somebody shit all over the Capitol Building. I can almost sympathize with this. There I times that I want to take a dump for change. Or just poop on some Senators.
I also sympathize with the people that called the bomb squad and a hazmat team over a dirty diaper. Diapers are frigging lethal if left to ferment.
One point of outrage: the Virginia legislature and Governor's office are apparently determined to ignore the advice of urban planners and the will of the people. Tim fucking Kaine and the other fucking dipshits supporting the overhead version of the proposed Metro expansion in Virginia have their heads so far up their asses, they can see what they had for lunch two months ago. Let's look forward, jackasses, to the future that is coming whether you fucking like it or not. Gas is never getting cheaper. We will never be able to breath engine exhaust. Step up and take a stance that won't be regarded as boneheaded and ass backward for the next hundred years. Plan for those hundred years and bury the Metro line and create a pedestrian friendly Tyson's Corner. Help usher in a Northern Virginia that is ready for the population expansion of the future and the long delayed but inevitable cost of the automobile culture. Imagine a Virginia that doesn't require 45 minutes to travel three miles. Have some fucking foresight.
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