i hate shit, i really do. i mean i hate looking at it, or god forbid smelling it. i mean i’ll wretch and gag if i get too close to it.
i hate having to clean it up. especially someone else’s. even my kid’s, i cant stand it. i mean she’s three and all so from time to time she has an “accident” (accident my ass) and i’m there by the sink getting the crust of it off her undies with my fingernails because shit is organic and it’ll stain if you don’t get to it quick enough. which in turn freaks me the fuck out and i end up using half a bottle of that soft-soap foamy nonsense and cutting my nails down to the quick.
but don’t get me wrong, i love taking a shit. i’m not one of those people that pops in the bathroom, scrambles for the toilet, shoots it out and can’t wait to run back outside. i take my time taking a shit. never mind magazines, i have books next to my toilet. i want to make sure i am good and done before i even go about the business of wiping my ass, which is a whole other nightmare to begin with. i mean, yeah sure, after two or three passes, the toilet paper looks clean, but what about at the microscopic level, i mean where the bacteria are still there running a three ring circus in your asshole?
i don’t know, but shit is just this big lose-lose situation you know?