MUSIC, LEADERSHIP, CULTURE… and humor (sometimes)


there's a message in the crap of our lives!

this is the first of several posts over time on the topic of memories.

Something you must know about me is that I don’t know how to fart.  (Wait, what?  How is that possible?!)  Some of my friends have theorized that perhaps 1) I wasn’t properly potty trained or 2) maybe it’s subconscious trauma that took over my body since the time in Kindergarten I successfully crapped in my pants during nap time and proceeded to smother the chocolate butter all over my blankets and soiled my clothes beyond repair.  As if that wasn’t embarrassment enough, I ended up wearing the Principal’s daughter’s daisy dukes (aka Short Shorts) with a Playboy bunny on the rear left pocket for the rest of the day. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the most confident boy on the jungle gym during recess that afternoon.

So to this day, I have yet to fart publicly.  Of course when I’m on the toilet, this all changes as I’m able to let everything rip without worry of Hershey squirting in my pants.  The issue here is that I simply do not know how to distinguish between a fart and a real bonafide #2.  I’m afraid to try as this will mean I could risk ruining a perfectly good pair of boxers.  Some have suggested the use of Depends –as in diapers for adults–but unless I’m filming my own webisode of Jackass for money, I would rather not take anything away from the national geriatric supply.

I have concluded that this is a hopeless case for now but at least it gives me a fail-proof social boost when a conversation runs dry.  Even the most non-talkative or socially awkward person can’t resist commenting  on such a ridiculous disability.  “No way… that’s crazy.  Whoa…  Ok, I’m gonna go walk over there now…”

I think we all need a Toilet sometimes.  A place where we can let go of all inhibition and just let it rip; let the crap fly, so to speak, without worry of embarrassment, judgment, or need to wipe.  Some call this “community” or “deep friendship” but whatever you would call it, we all need it and want it. I’m thankful I have it.

When was the last time you just let it rip on a “Toilet”?  Maybe it’s been years and you are in major need of prune juice and stool softener before you jump on the porcelain bowl.  I just want to say that it’s all good… just come as you are and take a dump, er– take a risk.  This could be a matter of life and death!

(my apologies if you are unable to see the reflective and deep nature of this post due to the gratuitous use of “crap” as an analogy.  I assure you that my stories are true, however, even if this is the most TMI post you ever read!)




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