Showing posts with label shit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shit. Show all posts

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Talking Shit…Literally

I know that girls aren’t supposed to burp and fart, let alone poop, but lets get real for a second…we do.  I work about 20 miles from my home and I have discovered that the road between home and work becomes endless if the urge to shit hits me.  I’ve many times found myself bouncing on the edge of my seat, butt cheeks clenched tighter than a steel vice grip, talking to myself saying, “Butt cheeks don’t fail me now!”, praying to God that I didn’t have to clean my car seat when I got home.  There often becomes a point where the urge will let up a little and I’ll find myself thinking, “I can make it”, until I make the turn into my neighborhood.  It’s like my bowels can sense that a toilet is near and the urge to spew the hot stinky gelatinous goo becomes almost unbearable.  The clenched butt cheeks begin to quiver and spasm as the pressure between them builds to dangerous levels, then as I turn into my driveway and park the car, I cannot immediately get out for if my ass leaves the counter pressure of the car seat, my butt cheeks alone will not contain the nastiness within.  So I sit there…sweat beading on my upper lip, bouncing in my seat, waiting for a moment when I feel it’s safe to make a mad dash to the bathroom.  The only problem?  The second I get out of the car, I’m again fighting the bowels vs. butt cheeks battle.

There’s an unmistakable walk of someone who’s about to shit themselves.  It’s easy to spot.  The lower half of the body usually leads, the butt cheeks move in a different rhythm than a normal gait as they strain to contain, the legs are straighter, the stride shorter yet the pace quicker with the back arched slightly backward to give support to the battling butt cheeks.  As I go in the door, I’m beginning to unbuckle and unbutton so that there will be no delay when I reach the bathroom.  The ass muscles are burning from the strain and then it happens…that precious moment when I quickly and clumsily plop onto the toilet with unstained panties, victorious! (Go Butt Cheeks!  Go Butt Cheeks!) The next few seconds release is arguably better than any orgasm as shivers rush through my body and I surrender to the toilet giving it my love offering. (Ok, maybe that’s going a little too far)
This woman obviously knows what I'm talking about.  See the look of total satisfaction?
 As bad as that situation is, it’s even worse when I’m not alone.  I recently found myself in this shitty situation.  I’d gone to dinner with man friend, then stopped at a store to pick up needed supplies, aka tequila.  We were talking with a friend when unexpectedly and without warning my tummy started gurgling, abdomen started cramping and suddenly I was in full on battle of the butt cheeks mode.  I was able to get out of the store and into the truck (hopefully without drawing too much attention to myself with my “don’t shit on yourself” walk).  It was only a couple minutes to the house, but those couple of minutes felt like hours as I found myself wondering why in the hell man friend had cloth seats instead of leather, thinking how much more difficult those seats would be to clean, and how mortified I’d be if I had to.  I could feel the sweat about to bead as he pulled into the driveway and I sprung from the truck and did the butt clenched poo poo gallop into the house.  While on the toilet I realized that making it to the toilet and the moments that followed were better than average sex.  This got me thinking…is it as good for you as it is for me?  I mean, we might not talk about things like this, but surely I’m not the only one to ever fight the bowels vs. butt cheeks battle.  With all the assholes in the world, mine cannot be the only one to strain unbearably against the butt cheeks.  So I’ve done what anyone in my situation would do and started asking.  I mean, inquiring minds want to know (ok, maybe just mine).

I’ve now talked to man friend, girl friends and guy friends about this shitty topic and while everyone’s experiences are different, we all have them.  After a tequila induced conversation with my guy friend CH last night, I decided it was time to make the taboo topic of poo poo a public topic. 

So what’s your most memorable or embarrassing bowel vs. butt cheeks battle?  

btw CH...I kinda liked your title idea of TTC (Turd Touching Cotton), but talking shit just seemed so fitting.
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Thursday, December 15, 2011

Midget Mexican Shit Sculptures On Lawn...BAD NEIGHBOR!!

As I pull into my driveway the day before yesterday, I am greeted by what has become an all too familiar sight:  The neighbor’s hundred plus pound yellow lab hunkered down shitting what looks like a little mexican midget in my front yard.  Now if this was a once in a while occurrence, I might be able to overlook it, but it is becoming a regular thing.  What I found most upsetting about the whole event is that my neighbor, an area native and about as redneck as they come, is sitting on his front steps watching his dog make a mini sculpture of him on my lawn, with what I swear could only be interpreted as pride. 



Before I can park my car and get back around the house, the dog has finished his duty and had left a present on my lawn big enough to trip a horse.  Lovely way to start my evening, but having had a long day, I decide it’s not a battle I want to fight right then so it will wait for another day.

Yesterday morning as I’m exiting the driveway, my peripheral vision draws my attention to my rearview mirror, where I immediately catch sight of this huge pile of dog shit.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I could almost swear it was waving goodbye to me as if to say, “Have a great day.  I’ll be right here waiting for the dog to shit me out some friends!” I found myself thinking the whole way to work that I should probably pick out a name for my new yard ornament, as big as it is.  Jose’, maybe Miguel, and thinking if you put it next to Chelsea Handler people might confuse it for Chuy.

 
I arrive home yesterday, deliberately avoiding looking at my yard to see if the Mexican midget has multiplied in my absence.  A short while later, my daughter arrives home and finds me out on the back patio, where she tells me that once again, the dog is hunkered down in the front yard making a friend for the pile from the day before.  Obviously my neighbor doesn’t give a shit (those his dog gives plenty) so it’s time I do something about it.   As I have thought about this today, I am really not sure how I’m going to handle this maddening situation with my neighbor, but I thought I’d share a few of my favorite ideas. 

Idea Number 1:  Transport shit via shovel and transplant it on neighbor’s doorsteps in a spot most likely to be stepped in before being noticed.

Idea Number 2:  Using shovel, sling shit from my yard to his, taking special aim to hit his work truck and attached tools.

Idea Number 3:  The classic, “poop in a bag lit on fire at front door”. 


Now I know that all of these are very unneighborly behaviors, but then, so is allowing his dog to leave daily sculptures on my lawn.  I am now up to three piles in my yard from this dog, and if I have to pick them up, there will be repercussions to my neighbor.  I will become the shit bandit.  Exacting my revenge in the stinkiest, messiest method available while returning his beloved pet’s byproduct.

I am now about to head home, and if my yard looks any more like a Mexican midget block party, I just might blow my stack.  I may just forgo the tactical planning, and sling it directly at him!  Lord grant me patience as I go home to face this shitty situation.