a simple man in a complex world

Thursday, January 24, 2008

too old to be juvenile, but I'll never outgrow puerile

I'm a very immature person in a lot of ways. I find scatological humour to be the second funniest type of humour, a close runner-up to the schadenfreudistic joy I get from watching people hurt themselves. really, is there anything more amusing that seeing a guy take a football to the groin? or a punk kid on a skateboard try a trick only to fail miserably and land on his face? or better yet, catch a railing with his crotch? it's not like I'm holier than thou on this either, I know perfectly well that other people laugh at me when I hurt myself comically, and encourage this. after all, if I weren't wincing in pain, I'd be laughing my ass off right next to you.

so it should stand to reason that I talk about poo a lot. it hasn't gone unnoticed by pretty much anyone I've spent more than five minutes with that I can steer a conversation to some bodily function or another within four minutes. it's a talent.

so why should my blog be any different?

I've long held the belief that pooping at work is one of the most satisfying feelings in the worth. YOU'RE GETTING PAID TO POOP! obviously, this is 50% better if you poop during overtime. perhaps the only thing more satisfying (in a slacker mindset) than pooping at work is blogging about pooping at work.

in high school, one of my friends had a poster that illustrated the shit list. it had some omissions, however. I'm pretty sure I've invented these new shits myself...

my favourite is the "gay porn shit"... I love these poops. it's the sudden realisation that, upon turning around to flush and setting eyes on the behemoth monstrosity to crawl from your butt, that you realise if such a beat could come OUT of you, you should be able to fit the same IN you. I've made a few of these poos over the year, and am confident that if I hit truly dire straights, I could fall back on a career in gay porn without much discomfort.

much more rare, and thus more special, is a shit I haven't come up with a catchy name for... but it's only happened to me once. after doing my business and cleaning up, I stood up to flush and essentially reloaded the chamber. I realised I had to sit right back down and double down. this wasn't a liquishit food poisoning thing either... this was a normal, healthy, solid poo and its sequel. it was a peculiar feeling, and one I will cherish until I go senile.

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