Pooping In Public

Avoid pooping in public. I won’t say “never poop in public” because there are occasional situations when public defecation is appropriate. However, these cases are limited to when you have no other option, or when it would be really, really funny.

Whether it’s in the middle of a forest or at a local pub, I don’t like shitting in public places. This doesn’t mean that I haven’t done it, or won’t continue to do it in the future. It just means that I try to avoid doing it at all costs.

When I was a kid, I would disappear deep into the forest to play. If the urge struck me, there was no way in hell I could make it back to the house in time. I only had to shit my pants once before I learned which leaves were best suited for rectal swabbing.

Definitely … definitely not the little, shiny ones.

I became one with the forest in the same way a taxi driver becomes one with the road. I knew the quickest and flattest ways to get to my preferred spots. I was a woodland waste warrior, and I hated every moment of it.

The plumbing in my house sucks. Ever since my friend's girlfriend tampon-sabotaged my plopping device, the River Shitz has not correctly emptied into the Bay of Bacterium. I have been engaging my scat in epic combat, the likes of which rival Troy against Sparta. Two weeks ago, it seemed as though I had lost.

The enemy had dammed the River Shitz. All flow had stopped. Thanks to my roommates, the other toilet was the same. I was not about to handle their shit for them, so to speak, so I devoted all my efforts to resisting the enemy. The battle raged on.

“I’m screwed! What am I going to do?” Desperate times call for desperate measures. In an attempt to dwindle the enemy’s numbers and weaken their morale, I stopped eating.

Days passed, and the battle raged like a drunk punk at a Fugazi show. Then, something unexpected happened. My only mode of attack was rendered hopeless. As I stared at the broken plunger in my hand, I could feel the enemy mounting an assault. My foe had regrouped in larger numbers, and the war party was soon to be upon me. I scrambled for reinforcements. I bought the last decent plunger left in the supermarket and rushed home.

What do you do when you know how, when, and in what numbers the enemy will attack? You flank them … and so I did.

With a few swift motions of my skillful hands, I annihilated their existing defenses. I destroyed the dam! The river is unguarded! I don’t think I could have dropped my pants any faster if I was on speed and Lucy Liu was naked, waiting for me in my own bed. The remaining enemy forces once again regained control of the river, but that didn’t matter. I had not yet won the war, but I won that battle. The enemy was pushed back. I went to bed utterly contented, for I stood my ground six days.

This is not a feat to be attempted by normal men. Yet, I am no average man. I am the Hero of Holding, the Paladin of Pinching … the Champion of Constipation. I am Big Steve, and the day was mine.

I didn’t have to poop in public.