Toilet Humor, Part One
To those of you who already think you know where this is going, I'm about to blow your tiny minds. Because I am not here today, my friends, to talk about poop.
Oh, poop may be mentioned... Poop may hanging around the edges of the conversation the way the Dippin' Dots kiosk hangs around the less-traveled hallways of the mall, but it will not be the main subject of our discussion for today. So rest easy, those of you with weak constitutions, and try not to be disappointed, ACW, for today we take a (somewhat) poop (or at least graphic descriptions of poop) -free ride into the American public toilet for a few observations.
1: I'm A Sniffer
As many of you have no doubt figured out by now, I am in no way prudish when it comes to matters of the bathroom. And yet, I recently noticed that I am a chronic shit-sniffer. Now, before you all start dry-heaving, when I use that term I do not mean to imply that I smell shit. I may like talking about it, but I find it as unpleasant smelling as the rest of you. I'm talking about that little thing we all do when our bathroom privacy is impinged upon.
You know how it goes, you are all alone in a public bathroom, situated comfortably in the stall of your choice, when you hear the door swing open. Then come the footsteps on the tile floor and before you even think about it you make some little noise. You quietly grunt. You clear your throat. You shuffle your feet. For my part, I sniffle.
This is your subtle little way of alerting the new bathroom-dweller to your presence. Okay, understood. The thing that bothers me is, why?
What exactly is it that we think this new person, believing the bathroom to be unoccupied, is going to do? I doubt that he or she entered the bathroom fully intending to smear feces on every available surface, only to be utterly stymied by your little noise. "Oh damnit," comes the soft whimper, "I thought I had this place all to myself. Oh well, I suppose I'll just pee like a normal person and be on my way..." (I should note that when I typed that I imagined it in the voice of James Mason for some reason. No, wait. I stand corrected. I should not have noted that. Please ignore this note, and any other notes that may follow.) I doubt it's because we are afraid the intruder might be a psychotic axe-murderer, because let's be honest: The best way of dealing with an axe-murderer is to be silent and not alert them to the presence of a nearby and half-naked victim.
(As a side note about axe-murderers, I have this question: Why on Earth would anyone want to murder an axe? I told you to ignore these notes.)
What I think is really going on, is that we are trying to avoid that moment when Mr. "Just arrived in this bathroom" decides to yank on the door of our stall to see if it is empty. For some reason this is the most terrifying and vulnerable moment in the modern human's life. We can survive plagues, wars, and bombings, but the thought of someone yanking on that little stall door just about paralyzes us. Someone explain that to me. (That's rhetorical. Don't explain it to me. Do not interrupt when I'm ranting. I care nothing for your opinion.)
2: Lock Obsessive
Am I alone in thinking that all "single occupant" public bathrooms should have a slide-lock on them, or at the very least some sort of deadbolt that makes a visceral and satisfying "thunk" when engaged? If I ever go into a "single user" that just has one of those push-button locks in the doorknob, I spend my entire visit doubting that anything really locked, and then getting up over and over again and re-pushing that little button. "Click. Oh god, did that work? Jiggle. Now it's definitely unlocked. Click. Did that do it? Maybe if I click it again. Click. Did that lock it, or unlock it? Click. Oh Christ I've lost track now... Is it locked? Maybe one more click... Click..." And on and on and on. I'll spend five minutes checking and rechecking the lock, and never get around to actually going to the bathroom. All I'm saying is, with a slide lock, you know you're safe, and you can get down to business.
3: Turbine Hand Warmer
Note to public bathroom owners: Those little jet engines that you install so we can dry our hands do not work. You can maybe go from wet to damp with these fucking things, but full-dry is right out of the picture. The only thing air-driers are good for is making you feel like you just stuck your head inside Joe Satriani's amp. The instructions should read 1) Press button. 2) Go completely deaf. 3) Wipe hands on pants.
Get some fucking paper towels you cheap dipshits.
4: Midgets and Cripples
If I go into the bathroom and all the normal "skinny" stalls are taken, I'll use the huge two-car-garage sized handicapped stall. When I do this, I spend the entire time terrified that a wheelchair-bound person will roll in and discover me using his toilet. The guilt I feel is so overwhelming that if one of the regular stalls becomes available while I'm in mid-shit I'll actually consider hopping over to use it rather than face the wrath of some paraplegic with a case of the runs. "Hey man, I swear to God the other stalls were occupied I would never ever steal your holy Christ what happened to your legs?!?!?"
Also, if the bathroom is very crowded and I end up forced to use one of the midget urinals, I feel like I just got picked last for a game of dodgeball. Using the shorty urinal is like getting turned down by every girl in school and having to take your mom to the prom.
5: Bun Music
If you make a funny fart while shitting or peeing, I should be allowed to laugh. I'm just saying.
Oh, poop may be mentioned... Poop may hanging around the edges of the conversation the way the Dippin' Dots kiosk hangs around the less-traveled hallways of the mall, but it will not be the main subject of our discussion for today. So rest easy, those of you with weak constitutions, and try not to be disappointed, ACW, for today we take a (somewhat) poop (or at least graphic descriptions of poop) -free ride into the American public toilet for a few observations.
1: I'm A Sniffer
As many of you have no doubt figured out by now, I am in no way prudish when it comes to matters of the bathroom. And yet, I recently noticed that I am a chronic shit-sniffer. Now, before you all start dry-heaving, when I use that term I do not mean to imply that I smell shit. I may like talking about it, but I find it as unpleasant smelling as the rest of you. I'm talking about that little thing we all do when our bathroom privacy is impinged upon.
You know how it goes, you are all alone in a public bathroom, situated comfortably in the stall of your choice, when you hear the door swing open. Then come the footsteps on the tile floor and before you even think about it you make some little noise. You quietly grunt. You clear your throat. You shuffle your feet. For my part, I sniffle.
This is your subtle little way of alerting the new bathroom-dweller to your presence. Okay, understood. The thing that bothers me is, why?
What exactly is it that we think this new person, believing the bathroom to be unoccupied, is going to do? I doubt that he or she entered the bathroom fully intending to smear feces on every available surface, only to be utterly stymied by your little noise. "Oh damnit," comes the soft whimper, "I thought I had this place all to myself. Oh well, I suppose I'll just pee like a normal person and be on my way..." (I should note that when I typed that I imagined it in the voice of James Mason for some reason. No, wait. I stand corrected. I should not have noted that. Please ignore this note, and any other notes that may follow.) I doubt it's because we are afraid the intruder might be a psychotic axe-murderer, because let's be honest: The best way of dealing with an axe-murderer is to be silent and not alert them to the presence of a nearby and half-naked victim.
(As a side note about axe-murderers, I have this question: Why on Earth would anyone want to murder an axe? I told you to ignore these notes.)
What I think is really going on, is that we are trying to avoid that moment when Mr. "Just arrived in this bathroom" decides to yank on the door of our stall to see if it is empty. For some reason this is the most terrifying and vulnerable moment in the modern human's life. We can survive plagues, wars, and bombings, but the thought of someone yanking on that little stall door just about paralyzes us. Someone explain that to me. (That's rhetorical. Don't explain it to me. Do not interrupt when I'm ranting. I care nothing for your opinion.)
2: Lock Obsessive
Am I alone in thinking that all "single occupant" public bathrooms should have a slide-lock on them, or at the very least some sort of deadbolt that makes a visceral and satisfying "thunk" when engaged? If I ever go into a "single user" that just has one of those push-button locks in the doorknob, I spend my entire visit doubting that anything really locked, and then getting up over and over again and re-pushing that little button. "Click. Oh god, did that work? Jiggle. Now it's definitely unlocked. Click. Did that do it? Maybe if I click it again. Click. Did that lock it, or unlock it? Click. Oh Christ I've lost track now... Is it locked? Maybe one more click... Click..." And on and on and on. I'll spend five minutes checking and rechecking the lock, and never get around to actually going to the bathroom. All I'm saying is, with a slide lock, you know you're safe, and you can get down to business.
3: Turbine Hand Warmer
Note to public bathroom owners: Those little jet engines that you install so we can dry our hands do not work. You can maybe go from wet to damp with these fucking things, but full-dry is right out of the picture. The only thing air-driers are good for is making you feel like you just stuck your head inside Joe Satriani's amp. The instructions should read 1) Press button. 2) Go completely deaf. 3) Wipe hands on pants.
Get some fucking paper towels you cheap dipshits.
4: Midgets and Cripples
If I go into the bathroom and all the normal "skinny" stalls are taken, I'll use the huge two-car-garage sized handicapped stall. When I do this, I spend the entire time terrified that a wheelchair-bound person will roll in and discover me using his toilet. The guilt I feel is so overwhelming that if one of the regular stalls becomes available while I'm in mid-shit I'll actually consider hopping over to use it rather than face the wrath of some paraplegic with a case of the runs. "Hey man, I swear to God the other stalls were occupied I would never ever steal your holy Christ what happened to your legs?!?!?"
Also, if the bathroom is very crowded and I end up forced to use one of the midget urinals, I feel like I just got picked last for a game of dodgeball. Using the shorty urinal is like getting turned down by every girl in school and having to take your mom to the prom.
5: Bun Music
If you make a funny fart while shitting or peeing, I should be allowed to laugh. I'm just saying.
posted by CommonWombat at 9:00 AM
21 Comments:
You could just sell your house and move to a public bathroom and be happy, couldn't you?
I was recently in a public bathroom where the stall door didn't lock. Of course, I didn't notice this until after everything was undone and I was in middle tinkle. I heard this small creeking sound and watched in horror as my stall door slowly opened on its own. I pushed it shut with my foot but I couldn't keep it shut with my foot as it was too far away in a closed position. Anyway, I was alone in the bathroom so I figured I'd be safe. Then some chick walks in, chooses my stall door to throw open as opposed to the unoccupied four to my right, and then after apologizing for her intrusion proceeded to ask me where I got my shirt (I was wearing my Natty Boh t-shirt). Talk about terrifying.
wonderful, I recognise all of that! There's really nothing better than having a pee when somebody in one of the stalls launches into a full on comedy poo, a la Deuce Bigalow, to give you a fit of the giggles
There's hope for the places that insist on giving you a blow-job dry. There's a new version that actually does dry your hands. Of course it sounds like the runway at DTW but at least it works.
My favorite is when you walk into the bathroom and the person in the stall freezes. For the entire duration of your stay.
You go about your business and on the way out, you can't help but notice their feet are in the exact same position and they haven't so much as rustled a litte toilet paper.
Why is that? Are they afraid I'll know they're there? Do they think I am an axe-murderer? Why don't they lift their feet then?
i was in the public bathroom in the grocery store the other day and the woman in the stall next to me began discussing a local jazz festival with me, while she was grunting and moaning and otherwise engaged.
this is not recommended. it was DISTURBING.
My favorite is when you walk into the bathroom and the person in the stall freezes. For the entire duration of your stay.
You go about your business and on the way out, you can't help but notice their feet are in the exact same position and they haven't so much as rustled a litte toilet paper.
Why is that? Are they afraid I'll know they're there? Do they think I am an axe-murderer? Why don't they lift their feet then?
Its called poop anxiety. I wrote a whole shebang about it.. actually quite funny if I do say so myself..
Well look who decides to wander away from a marathon session of looking at puppet porno to post something on his blog.
Something, no less, that only mentions poop as a indirectly related subject.
You think we're going to fall for this? You think we're going to put up with it? No way man. Game over man, game over.
You used to be cool.
I cannot deny, I DO love the puppet porno...
I'll add two more. When go to the urinal and the person next to you (there is only two urinals at my office) starts to flush while peeing constantly until he is done.
Or the stench of death. You walk in at it hits you all at once. Your eyes start to water and you pray that you pick the right stall that has not been violated.
Or if you chose wrong, you pull your shirt over your nose and start praying they installed the oxygen mask like the ones they have on the airplanes
Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick. You are UNBALANCED. You had the unmitigated gall to call ME a 'tard? When you are preoccupied with checking to make sure the bathroom door is locked over and over? Fie on you.
And no way would I sniff or cough to announce my presence to others. This isn't a party, it's a bathroom. In fact, I'd prefer it if they had no idea I was in there til I flushed. I'm trying to conduct my business discreetly, not announce my bodily functions to the masses.
As for the handicapped stall, I use it whenever necessary. Sometimes I use it when the others are occupied, sometimes I use it because it looks cleaner. Now that I've got a kid, it's often the only stall a stroller and a grown-up can fit in together, so I use it more often than before. I look at it this way: Hopefully, any handicapped individuals in the building are equipped with a colostomy bag and won't be needing this stall while I'm in it.
11 comments about poop?
Man, the Internet is a weird place.
(I thought it would be more.)
(oh, and ignore ACW...he's just trying to bait you, and then somehow try to convince you that YOU are trying to bait HIM...)
and HAPPY BIRTHDAY SALLY!!!!
11 comments about poop?
Man, the Internet is a weird place.
(I thought it would be more.)
I hate to piss on your parade, but this topic is far from unique. In fact, there is an entire website devoted to it: www.poopreport.com. They even have terminology for some of the things that Wombat described. Twisted stuff, indeed.
Wombat, when will you be in St. Louis??? My father would adore you!
well at least he didn't get into Cleavelad Steamers...
Clearly men and women have different bathroom fears. I for one, appreciate being alerted to someone's presence in the bathroom because there is NO way I can poo in front of someone else. So yes, I would have to make that split-second decision to downgrade my bathroom visit to pee-only if someone else were there.
...and as for the double-wide stall, I hate it too... but you should let your guilt go free. Those stalls are there to accomodate a handicapped person -- but they still have to wait their turn just like everyone else. I mean, really, they already get all the best parking spots. I'm considering getting rid of one of my legs just so I don't have to park 12 miles away at a concert. :)
well this is a good subject. some thing that i would expect from the wombat. one thing i wish every one would do when in a stall is give the rest of us a break and at least once before you are through give us a courtesy flush, at least one maybe two if possible.
With all this potty humor, I'm surprised you haven't told them all about the Lily White Ass Fair! :)
Bun Music! Classic.
i know you are a slave to the man in the red suit,
but seriously?
WHERE ARE YOU
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