The Bathroom Follies

I live on rez, and have a shared CO-ED bathroom, so naturally, I try not to shit more than once a week. Unfortunately the time comes when you either go in your room, or go in the shared bathroom, and when those times come, all you can do is pray. This time came for me recently and while I was sitting on the toilet watching people come and go, brushing their teeth and wash their faces, all I was doing was trying to silence my rectum, and reduce any splashing noise by making one continuous stream of fesces right down into my pubic hair covered bowl. It was somewhere in here that I began wondering if this is the path my life has taken. And then I had a revelation. The idea came to me to write a blog about my flatulent escapades, which I will name in admiration after a somewhat similar article written by my hero, Tucker Max. And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…

THE BATHROOM FOLLIES.

Welcome to Bethune
The residence I live in is called Bethune, and it is the most horrid place on gods green earth, but that’s another story. As I previously mentioned the bathrooms are co-ed, and this story takes place not long after I moved in:
There’s a moment. Before you decide to go to the washroom, there is always a moment when you decide, you have to go. Sometimes, for me at least, you make the wrong decision. I was headed for the bathroom one day to take a piss, and as I entered I noticed a fairly good looking female brushing her teeth. I gave her the old ‘good morning, enjoy brushing your teeth 10 feet away from my exposed penis’ head nod, said hello, and entered the stall. This stall will forever be my cubicle of shame. I whipped it out and started pushing, gently at first awaiting the stream of recycled liquids to exit my shaft, when much to my surprise, nothing came out. Imagine my surprise, standing there with my dick in my hands pushing, and I‘m shooting blanks. Normally I would admit defeat, pack things up, go back to my room, and pretend this whole fiasco never happened, but there was a female present. I will not admit defeat to my body, and sulk away embarrassed in front of a mildly attractive female, so I did what any self respecting male would do. I pushed. Hard. I pushed until my face was as purple as my head, and I was 10 seconds away from having an aneurism. I pushed for my pride, I pushed for mankind, I pushed for my piss, and lo and behold I pushed too hard. Standing in the stall, dick out, female across from me, face red from pushing I let one rip. I let a fart go that was so loud it could raise Princess Di from the grave. And then… silence. I stood there in shock. I can only imagine what the girl was thinking. I slowly looked through the cracks in the door to get a look at her reaction. Utter disgust. Glancing over her shoulder at me with a look that made me die a little bit inside she spat out her toothpaste. Needless to say I was embarrassed, embarrassed and ashamed, but not dissuaded. I kept pushing, thinking in my euphoria of urination that if I could just squeeze a few drops out than everything would be okay. I could then make a funny one liner to end the awkward silence and show off the yellow water in my toilet bowl. So I pushed again. I pushed harder than before, I pushed hard enough to shit a kidney. And that’s exactly what it sounded like happened. I let another one go. Not as loud as the first, but twice as disgraceful. I didn’t quite know how to react. I did NOT see this coming. My hopes were crushed, my dreams shattered, I was no longer a man. So I did what I assume anybody in my position would do, I sat down on the toilet, waited for the girl to leave, and sulked back to my room.
God, I hope she didn’t get a good look at my face.


Holy Shit (not really)
This story occurred to me while I was about 10 years old on a trip to Israel with my family, and although it is not poo related, I still found it relevant enough to include. Please note that due to my age at the time, and my habit of exaggerating/making up stories to make people like me, the facts may be twisted, and I may have made this story up, but here it is to the best of my recollection. While in Israel we took a trip to what was called the ‘Holy Forest.’ I don’t know what makes it holy, I’m assuming God. For those of you who have never been to Israel, and are completely retarded, let me point out one simple fact to you. Israel is hot. I don’t mean, “it’s hot in here, open a window“ hot, I’m talking “YOU HAVE BEEN DAMNED TO THE LOWEST DEPTHS OF HELL” hot. So naturally, being the fat son of a bitch that I was, I was drinking water. A lot. At the time I was unaware of the deadly combination that is fat kids walking, lots of water, and running brooks, but after about half an hour of witnessing god’s green beautiful landscape, it hit me. It hit me like a goddamm brick. I had to pee. NOW! I asked our tour guide, who will from here on out be called Yitzhak if there was an outhouse around. His answer? No. Apparently god has always hated me. So I held it in. And I held it. And I held it. But as everybody learns sometime or another, you can only hold it for so long, and my time had come. So I took off, separating from the group, until I found my own little oasis in the Holy Forest. A place where I was alone, just me and god. God blessing me with his beautiful, enchanting, holy forest, and me, pissing all over it. I let that forest have it. I pissed all over god’s holy rocks, and god’s holy trees, his bushes, and rabbits. I peed until there was nothing left inside me, and the only thing left to do was drink more and catch up with the tour group. So if you ever visit Israel and the Holy Forest, try not to trail off the path. Oh, and don’t tell Yitzhak.


The Snowhill
I used to attend a school called Bayview Glen Public School, and it was by far the most rewarding, greatest place I have ever attended. With some exceptions. Every winter, all the snow was pushed towards one area where a huge pile of snow was constructed which we, being the creative geniuses that we are, named the snow hill. All the students used to play on the hill, running around, screaming, just generally spazzing out on our cold elevated terrain. I was up there one day, just goofing around when whatever I had for lunch, must have been curry, came back to haunt me. It was bad, I was at that stage where you just stand there because you’re scared that any change in the shape of your butt hole will result in fesces spewing in every direction. It was making weird noises, and I can only assume that I was making funny faces, if you were watching me you’d probably be half expecting that little thing from ‘Alien’ to burst out of my chest at any moment. Only, you know, made of poo. After I made the bold decision that I had to get to the bathroom NOW, I began trudging my feet towards the edge of the hill, trying not to lose control of my sphincter, when all of a sudden I hear, “Hey [Ving]”, and the next thing I know I’m tumbling down the side of the hill. Don’t feel too bad for me though, my fall was softened by a giant pile of my own shit. Looking up the hill at the perpetrator, I saw my friend, who I will refer to as Satan. Distraught and disillusioned I made my way to the bathroom to clean up. I did NOT however, flush that pair of underwear down the toilet, and I still take pride in that decision today. So it was a little shit covered, it’s still a perfectly good pair of underwear. I then made my way to my classroom, where I quickly, half hiding the still shit covered underwear, approached my bag. That’s right, I not only didn’t throw it out, I didn’t clean the underwear, and I had every intention of just shoving it in my bag, shit and all, and hoping for the best. It was at this point that I heard the voice behind me, the voice that still haunts my dreams, and turning around to face my third grade teacher, smiling from ear to ear, tried to formulate my reply to his haunting question.
“What you got there [Ving]?”