
So yes, I shit like a windmill. Cat's out of the bag on that one. I flail my arms and splay my legs, airplane my head real low and strain every muscle in my body. Now you know.
I take a wide stance, sometimes so wide it results in me inadvertantly having sex with other people. I guess I should take Ex-Lax. I guess I should get more fiber. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. At the end of the day, all I want now is to be able to shit in peace.
I've fielded all the questions and answered as honestly as I can. OK, sometimes between stalls I wave semaphore flags to distract from how hard I'm pushing. Other times, I play techno music and light fireworks. Is that really so weird? Do we really have nothing else to talk about?
Constipation is no laughing matter. For those who have resorted to cruising for sex, you know what I'm talking about. When I heard about them drilling for those miners in Utah, I was wondering if perhaps the same technology might be applied to loosen my bowels. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It's easy for you to get on your high horse when you just had a satisfying poop ten minutes ago. For me, it's much more difficult, because my stomach is full.
So now that I've answered your questions, may I please enter this stall, stack my luggage by my feet, close the door and do whatever it is I need to do? Thank you. And before you leave, does anyone have a match?
































