Let’s Talk About Our Poop

Pooping: Everyone does it but no really talks about it. Right now, Tom Cruise may be pooping. Gwyneth Paltrow might be going number two as well (just kidding, Gwyneth would never poop.) and here we are not acknowledging it. I, for one, don’t trust a person who can’t talk about their bowels. Anyone who goes “ewwww!” when you say something like “I need to poop!” clearly doesn’t love themselves. Shit is awesome because it’s the great equalizer. You think you’re so cool? Well, right now I’m visualizing you pooping and it’s hilarious. Just try to be holier-than-thou when you’re pooping. It’s impossible! Whatever created us was clearly like, “Okay, now in order for these people to stay humble, I’m going to make them all have weird brown things come out of their butt about once a day. Yay!”

So now that we’ve started this conversation about our poop, let’s just dive in. There are a lot of things we have spent years avoiding and it’s time we stop living in denial about the gross things our bodies do.

POOPING IN PUBLIC SPACES IS SCARY

Just today I was writing in a cafe when I realized I had to go poop. However, when I surveyed the bathroom sitch, I knew it was going to be mission impossible. A teeny tiny room next to a table full of people? No thanks. Someone is bound to knock and give me anxiety. So I did what I had to do and walked home so I could poop in the comforts of my own home. Look, nothing beats a good poop in your very own bathroom. It can be better than sex. What’s the most insane part is that your body recognizes that it’s a safe space to go poop in. When you get closer to your apartment, your body sends a signal to your butt that’s like “Okay, it’s go time!” and you go from not having to poop at all to having to poop that instant. This one time, I was at a friend’s house and realized that I needed to go poop. I got very emotional and told my friend, “Our love is for real. My body is comfortable enough to poop here!” In my opinion, a relationship has not reached its fullest potential until your body feels good enough to poop near them.

BUT SOMETIMES POOPING IN PUBLIC SPACES CAN BE OKAY

There are two public spaces I can poop in without reservation: Bookstores and movie theaters. I’m not talking about indie bookstores because they usually don’t have public restrooms. Barnes & Noble, however, has amazing facilities. They’re huge with tons of stalls so you don’t feel rushed. Take your time while listening to some Muzak and reading a paperback you took with you illegally from the shelves. Movie theaters are chill too mostly because they’re air-conditioned. Just make sure to go when no movies are ending. You will be bombarded with a bunch of people peeing and talking about whatever movie they just saw, and that is not an ideal pooping situation.

NO POOPING ON VACATION

People go on vacations to get away from work and the daily grind. What they don’t know is that they’re also running away from a regular pooping schedule. Yes, going to a location that your asshole is not familiar with makes it very angry. It enters your hotel room and cowers in fear screaming, “TAKE ME BACK TO MY HAPPY PLACE. I WANT YOUR BATHROOM!” Whenever I go on vacation, I’m lucky if I get a poop on the third day. What’s worse is that you’re just eating so much on vacation that you end up being a bloated beach ball your whole trip.

HANGOVER POOP

Um, how come no one talks about the massive case of the runs one gets during a terrible hangover? “I can barely move” should continue with “except to the bathroom where I will spend most of my day.” Not only do hangovers screw with head and tummy, they also invade your pooping schedule with a fervor that had once only been reserved for the flu. RUDE. I can’t tell you how many hangover brunches I’ve attended in absolute fear. I take one bite of my egg’s benedict and wait to see if my stomach tells me to go fuck myself or not. If it does, I silently freak out and develop an exit strategy. If I’ve gone to the bathroom for long, I just tell everyone that I vomited. As a result of this lie, my friends think I vomit quite a bit. TC mark

image – wordridden

Ryan O'Connell

I'm a brat.

Trace the scars life has left you. It will remind you that at one point, you fought for something. You believed.

“You are the only person who gets to decide if you are happy or not—do not put your happiness into the hands of other people. Do not make it contingent on their acceptance of you or their feelings for you. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if someone dislikes you or if someone doesn’t want to be with you. All that matters is that you are happy with the person you are becoming. All that matters is that you like yourself, that you are proud of what you are putting out into the world. You are in charge of your joy, of your worth. You get to be your own validation. Please don’t ever forget that.” — Bianca Sparacino

Excerpted from The Strength In Our Scars by Bianca Sparacino.

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    I read this while pooping.

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    Listen to this while you're pooping: 

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    Oddly enough this makes me want to contact you (Ryan O' Connell) on okcupid.

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    Love is hiding who you are at all times. It's wearing makeup to bed and going downstairs to the Burger King to poop.

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    “In my opinion, a relationship has not reached its fullest potential until your body feels good enough to poop near them.”
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    I read this while pooping.

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    I read this while taking a shit.

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