The subject of this post is pretty off-color, but it came about in an honest enough manner. My girlfriend is watching the late ’70s movie, “Ice Castles” on Netflix. She’s watched all of the good films available for streaming and has now resorted to scraping the bottom of the barrel. In the movie, [Spoiler Alert!] the heroine is a young, hot-shot figure skater. Then she cheats on her boyfriend. Then she falls down, hits her head, and is blinded. Naturally, everything works out in the end.
But my girlfriend thought the girl falling was hilarious and made me watch the scene. I laughed, but I didn’t think the punishment fit the crime. She asked, “What do you think is fair punishment for cheating?”
“The cheater should have the squirts for as long as the relationship lasted.” This came off the top of my head, but there is something just in diarrhea. Of course, it’s the kind of punishment that can only be enforced by the gods. Depending on the day, the hour, or even the second, poop can be a blessing or a curse. Freud wrote that everyone has an anal/feces fixation because of an innate desire to look at something and say, “I created that.” I’ve looked in the bowl a number of times in my day to varying degrees of satisfaction, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to top this one time my senior year in college.
I hadn’t been avoiding the bathroom, but I’m not exactly sure how long it had been since I took a seat on the throne. It wasn’t one of those times where you have to run to the john or anything like that, though. It was just sort of a normal, “I think I need to take a load off.” And so I made my way to the bathroom, sat down, and had a bowel movement that seemed large, but not preposterous. But when my first wipe came up clean, I was forced to look into the depths of the water.
“Holy shit!” It was spectacular. It must have been a solid two/three inches in diameter. I’m not sure how long it was because one end of it lay in the hole at the bottom of the toilet, but it emerged from the hole straight to the front of the toilet, resting on the porcelain bottom. It crested in a point, rising about an inch above the water. But that wasn’t all. Besides being massive, it was beautiful. It was partitioned into three sections. Slight creases delineated distinct color regions: dirt, shale, and mustard brown. It was like three separate poops in one. A triune dump. I knew what I had to do.
“Jacko!” I called to my roommate.
“What?”
I pulled up my pants. “Come here for a second.”
“What is it?” He was playing Mario Kart.
“You’ve just got to see this.”
“See what?”
I wandered down the hall. “I took the most amazing dump, and before I flush it, I need someone else to see it to prove its existence.”
“Gross! No way, man.” I thought hope was lost, then he paused Mario Kart and started laughing.
“Please!”
More laughter, more refusals, more begging, and he agreed. I went ahead and prepped the bathroom by lifting the seat for maximum exposure and the best viewing experience. He peeked his head in, saw the log, and screamed a guttural, “Gaw!” before jumping back into the hallway and shaking with laughter. Then he stepped into the bathroom to properly admire my creation, and we traded expletives trying, and failing, to build on the glory that was before us.
We thought about taking a picture of it, but decided that would be crass. He agreed to remember what occurred on that day in case I ever needed to call on him to affirm my story to nonbelievers. So, in the end, I flushed one of my greatest creations, quite literally, down the toilet.
3 Comments
November 9, 2009 at 11:22 pm
YES! Thats awesome.. such a shame you flushed it, you should have had that thing appraised. I know a guy.
-royal swinness
November 10, 2009 at 11:57 am
I felt a bit of regret when my gift departed. For future appraisal purposes, I’ll let you know if I ever top that day. Thanks for reading.
November 17, 2009 at 1:37 am
Some things you just can’t forget…