What I think

Pooping is good. Everyone's doin' it!

Pooping can be amusing to adolescents.

Pooping can be musical.

Pooping can be better than sex, when necessary!

Pooping can be intimate fun...I'll not elaborate.

Pooping can be done outdoors on a bright, sunlit day.

Pooping can be revenue generating due the the natural gas factor.

Pooping can be a social event, particularly in a college setting.

Pooping can burn calories, as it may be considered strenuous excersise at times.

Pooping generates smiles in children.

Pooping generates grins in dogs, if you've ever noticed.

"Nincompoop" is a person who is simple, due to their inability to poop.

A Poop Deck is the deck that constitutes the roof of a cabin built over the head

The Battle of the Turtle

Today from our blog we bring you a video about a troubling issue men often face.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiNZdTSH3-A

It can strike you as you are working out, eating dinner, riding on a bus or in your car, possibly dancing as you try to squeeze out a fart in the crowd where nobody can blame the smell on you. We all have our own methods. Some choose to pinch their cheeks and hold it in. Others will wait until that perfect moment to let out an air biscuit hoping it will be silent and won't be enough to make them shit their pants.

But, sometimes, no matter how hard you try to postpone the turtle head that is trying to poke out, the turtle wins the battle. Panic sets in. "I just shit my pants", you say to yourself. Now...you look around and the hot lady standing next to you doesn't know and neither do the people around you, but you are left with a soiled pair of draws. Here comes the big finish...do you get to a bathroom, ditch the draws, and freeball it the rest of the night? What if your with a lady and you know you're going back to her place?

Do you want her to think you were freeballing it all night at the party? Or do you find the nearest elevator, door, or stairwell and get the hell out of there giving the victory to that damn turtle?!!

Post your opinions and let us know what you would do.

GM

The Golden Outdoor Shitter

A New Coat of Paint Changes the Day

Today is a great day. Yesterday, the roof over my throne was painted. And while I could not use the bathroom all day, it was worth the wait. This morning I woke up to a morning stew brewing hot. I ventured into my newly painted bathroom to drop the kids off at the pool.

Perfection. A fresh coat of paint. Window open and a cool morning breezing coming through the bathroom, I sat down and enjoyed this glorious start to my day.

So on this day, take a look around the area of your home that you owe so much too. A new paint job, perhaps a new toilet seat? Maybe some new TP with a scent? Maybe something we don't even know about.

Long Live the Throne,

G

There's No Place Like Home!

In my first contribution to this blog I would like to broach a subject in which every man must unfortunately encounter in his life, the dump away from his customary throne at home. We all have come to know and love our pooper at home, it's like another family member. We know the personality of our toilet and all of it's little nuances: the smell, the shape, the feel, the height, the flush, etc. It's nice to know, with a relative sense of certainty, if the monster you just dropped will go down; with or without TP, or even at all.

So when we are thrust into a situation where a new toilet has now entered into the mix, we are caught off guard and thrown out of our comfort zone. This is NOT a good feeling by any means. Of course some situations are inherently worse than others and that depends on many factors. For example public restrooms are animal in it of itself, they are as unpredictable as they come, but usually pack enough punch in terms of flush. The beloved port-o-john is another beast, which can range for a pristine beauty to an overused, ugly mess (aka the port-o-johns on the last day of camp). A sweltering day can make even a clean port-o-john unbearable as the temperature doubles in the plastic box, now your drenched in sweat and breathing in fecal fumes. Then you have the friend/girlfriend/other house toilet. As you approach this uncomfortable situation many questions pop into your head. First thing that comes to mind here is flush power. Will this baby pack enough punch to send the monster into the bowels of hell? Is there a plunger close by? Is there any spray? What is the strength and feel of the toilet paper? Is this the only bathroom? Is anyone waiting or in the blast radius? What's the ventilation situation?

For example, when at the gf's college house many factors make my business uncomfortable. First, there is only one bathroom (wtf). Second, its on the second floor next to all the girls rooms. Finally, the kicker, the door is about a good 2 inches off the floor leaving a nice gap for air and sound to easily travel through. Adding to that, the door doesn't even shut properly as the doorknob is broken making a small latch and hook ( which leaves another 1 inch gap along the long side of the door) the only thing keeping that door closed. I mine as well be shitting in the middle of the fucking hallway. As you can see it is a unpleasant situation, which causes me to take quick, unfinished dumps, in which I must hold back from really letting it fly. This totally messes with my Feng Shui (pronouced "fung shway" for those uncultured people).

So Men, I want to leave you with this little bit of advice. When your at home, enjoying your home field advantage, you must revel in the moment. And make sure to fully appreciate this optimal situation, because you never know if the next will be, quite this good. There truly is no place like home.

Good shitting to all
PP

Cigars Speak To Us

Sitting on my porch, cigar and beer in hand, I thought to myself that there is no better place for a man to relax and do some thinking. A good cigar and beer are means for conversation that rarely come up anywhere else. You find as the cigar gets closer to its end that it is easy to fade away in thought. But then...just as you were getting comfortable and settled in...the cigar begins to battle with your stomach. Can you fight it off? Drop a few air biscuits to give yourself some extra time to finish the cigar? Or... has the cigar won the battle?

Men, in this situation it is often best to admit defeat rather then be stubborn. Put the cigar down and enjoy the mass eruption and weight loss it has brought upon you. Then, clean and at a lighter weight, return to your cigar, kick back, and with a sense of victory among your thoughts, take the next puff and enjoy life.

It is not a battle men, but a price that comes with enjoying the things we do best. So on your next outing on the porch, remember...the cigar is your friend...dont fight it...listen to it.

Long Live Our Domain,
GM

When Allies Become Enemies

Men, we all have our allies in this life, those we can always rely on in our time of need. Your parents, a friend, or a shot of whiskey. What happens when those assets you hold so dear turn on you?

After a long day of work when you lay in bed, is there no better feeling then to squeeze out a fart under the covers? I think not, a nice air horn under the sheets in the perfect end, you now know that you can go to sleep gas free. Until that friend, that ally you always rely on, turns on you. Friends, you know a new level of tired when you squeeze, urn for that pre-sleep fart, that then it stabs you in the back like a modern day shit Judas, the brown-downtown Benedict Arnold. I just sharted, in my bed. What the hell happened? What did I do to deserve this? Just as I was about to close my eyes the fucking japs pearl harbored my boxers. But I'm so tired... Can I sleep through this?...really? Am I really considering sleeping through a shart? Yes, Yes I did, thank god I made the right choice and went for the wet wipes. That was close.

JB

Pre-Activity Rituals and America

Gents, it's already been discuss here in our man cave that breaking a man's ritual is like burning the American flag, its just something you don't do. But I would like to touch, if I may, upon a different kind of ritual. We all know that there are certain times of day when we are trained to be in the vicinity of a friendly bowl. However I would like to discuss pre-activity releases.

When I go to work out, I can not function without taking a massive heater. Have paper work to do? Better get some coffee to clear you mind and colon before hitting the books. I reference the lines are port-o-johns before 5K's, Marathons, and Triathlons, one has never experienced such a quick fill up of past culinary endeavors. Why you ask? Because Men, we know our bodies, we know when it is time to focus, go big or go home. And before those times we need something familiar, comfortable, and downright stinky before we can carry on our business. I fear what the world would be like if we could not drop weight on the thought of doing an activity. Oil prices would go through the roof, unemployment would skyrocket, and everybody would be so full of their own shit that we probably wouldn't even have health care.

Men, I offer this world a suggestion. Before we go to work, school, or the gym, take your massive dump, maybe it will catch on all the way to Washington.

JB

In Tough Times...Our Domain Suffers A Loss

As the economy continues to struggle and our country falls further into debt, there are areas of major concern that seem to be constantly overlooked.

Ask yourself, what are the essentials needed when you walked in to use the throne? Peace and quiet...maybe. A cross breeze through the bathroom...maybe. Magazine...maybe. Scented spray...maybe. All of these may come to mind, but the most important of all is what allows you to finish the job. It allows you to build a nest on a toilet you might question. The answer gentleman is TP.

In these tough times, TP is an area that people have begun to go cheap on. The more the economy suffers, the closer bathroom TP is getting to resembling and feeling like sandpaper. Quality TP with a soft texture and possible nice scent tops off what can be an all around momentum booster for your day.

So I ask, when you go to the store, order TP for your office, or come across bad TP wherever it may be, make the right choice. Spend the extra dollar, put a complaint in the complaint box. Those around you, the real men, will appreciate your efforts to combat this battle. In tough times such as these, it is the job of real men to stand up for what they believe in.

GM

The Worst Job Ever

Recently I visited an undisclosed military base in Texas for a full 3 days of getting poked, probed, and prodded in order to fly. As a recurring theme on this site, you never, EVER, mess with a man's cycle. Up at 4:30 in the morning to pee in a cup for drug test is really not the most comfortable thing for someone to do who usually wakes up ready to drop weight. So I wake up having to pee, and I say to myself, "Jack, you'll be able to pee just a little bit to fill a cup later, you are the master of your domain." So I pee, and go on about my duty day.

Crunch time comes around, a group of 5 of us are huddled into a bathroom so a person can watch us pee and make sure we aren't slipping anything in to the cup, fair enough. Normally I have terrible stage fright, but I was feeling confident in my abilities, once again, master of my domain. I was wrong. I couldn't pee. So, I exited the bathroom and chugged 2 bottles of water and a can of coke, I started to feel like I had to go, so I dragged the guy back into the bathroom, he chose a closer, smaller bathroom, about 5 x 5. I couldn't piss. People we starting to get annoyed as I was holding everyone else up. I kept feeling pressure to go but I would just fart and it would go away. Then it dawned on me, I had to shit.

I proceeded to find the monitor and ask him a simple enough question, "Hey man, I'm wearing my physical training uniform, I can't hide anything on me, I can pee but only if i take a dump, and you do not want to be in there for this."

**Side note** The night before I had eaten in San Antonio and had a HUGE cheese steak with peppers, onions, and pepper jack cheese.

The monitor checked with his boss, who apparently had no care for this poor guy. Next thing you know I'm walking into the closet size bathroom, monitor close behind, this poor guy had no idea what was about to hit him. So I sit down, he stands in the corner, 3 feet away from me, and reads a Men's Health. And that's when the bombs started falling. I had an explosion that would make the Japanese ask for another atomic bomb, I mean there was nothing quiet, calm, and nice about this monster. This POOR BASTARD stood there while I had a D-Day re-inactment 3 feet away from him. Quickly he grabbed for the Glade can but he was too late, the stench had already attacked him, he was done for. I quickly courtesy flushed, but I also was too late. The damage had been done. I filled up the cup and gave it to him, he swiftly evacuated with my hard work in his hand.

15 Minutes later I emerge from the bathroom, completely devoid of all fluids and solids. To all my class mates giving me a standing ovation. I had done it, I had peed in a cup. Go me. Regrettably I had ruined everything nice and holy about a poor civilian who, if I were him, would go home and shove jalapenos up my nose. This poor man took a full offensive assault from my colon, and lost. All in service for his country.

I leave you with this men, there are people in this world who might not have the most amazing jobs, people who put up with our assholes, the janitors who clean the back splatter on the bowl, the port-o-jon truck driver, and everyone who works at Taco Bell. Men, I ask you to keep these people in your hearts and minds as you go about destroying their workplace, for without them, we would not be able to really enjoy how terrible our shits really are.

A Lesson About Squatting In The Woods

I would like to revisit a story full of lessons about listening to your stomach/mind and doing your business in the right place.

On a chilly fall night, a family came across a roadside diner in the middle of nowhere. Hungry and tired from driving and craving homemade pies, the group pulled off the road to eat.

Lesson one: roadside diners and hole-in-the-wall eateries are the best places to eat.

The group ordered dinner, ate a great meal, and all were satisfied. Or so it appeared. Before taking the check, they realized there were homemade pie specials with vanilla ice cream on the side for dessert. Ignoring their full stomachs and lactose intolerance, the gentleman decided to go ahead with the pecan pie and ice cream special.

Lesson two: Homemade pies at roadside diners are delicious, but when in doubt listen to your lactose intolerance telling you that you have to get in the car and drive another 3 hours after you eat.

On the money! "Tastes like another one." The check was paid, they walked out satisfied. Back in the car, 5 minutes into the drive after dinner, the words spoken "the ice cream won't bother my stomach" quickly became BS. In the middle of the Virginia woods, the great one said, "pull over" in a firm tone.

Pulling down a dirt road in the woods, he jumped out of the car and disappeared into the woods with some TP. A few minutes went by and the family heard sprinting coming at the car from the dark woods. Scared shitless, pants wrapped around his ankles and trying to be pulled up, the man came running out of the woods back to the car.

What had scared this veteran pooper? Gun shots he claimed. As he pulled his pants up to get back in the car, the sniffs of the passengers brought suspicion upon the man. One foot almost on the car floor, they realized he had stepped in his own business in his scared state and sprint from the "gun shot".

Arriving at the hotel, walking in with only his bare feet, the family still in tears and at a loss of breath from the event, the memory was instilled in their minds forever and the Great One had once again set the bar high for achieving some of the greatest shit stories of all time.

Lessons for the day:

Homemade diners in the middle of the woods have the best pies and ice cream, listen to your lactose intolerance, squatting in the woods may not be your best option, if and when you do squat in the woods if you here "gun shots" make sure to step aside from your area of choice before taking your first step in your sprint for cover.

GM

My Safety Blanket

At an undisclosed location in Northern NJ a group of men rough it in the wilderness. There are massive amounts of Italian food and barrels of alcohol. This writer stayed up with the rest of the drinking and eating elite until the wee hours of the morning. Upon waking up to doing my morning business and still being extremely intoxicated, I made an important decision. I could go to sleep and ruin my cycle (see GM's article below) which was not an option, or I could brave the steep slopes to the glorious plastic portojons of excellence.

Of course I went for it. Falling down the hill I made my way to glory, once situated I was able to free myself from the waste that was holding me back, only to wake up 45 minutes later to people yelling my name. The single act of taking a dump had lulled me into such a sense of comfort and safety I had fallen asleep inside the portojon. Friends I tell you this story for two reasons, first of all find your happy place in the bathroom. That's where mine is. It should always be a place of safe thinking for you. The other reason is that you should stick to a wingman concept, if a brother is heading to the jon, check in every now and then so you don't have to mobilize an entire campsite to find someone pass out with his draws around his ankles in the 120 degree portojon.

Think of your fellow man. Look out for each other, and be safe. -JB

The Cycle

A man's cycle can truly determine the outcome of his entire day. Some are morning men, some afternoon, some are anytime men. No matter what category you may fall under, a man's cycle is a ket factor in the way he lives his life. The cycle takes time and effort. Like anything in life it takes commitment and hard work to establish and maintain. Once you get to a solid level of consistency, you must be ready to face adversity. How you handle it may determine whether your cycle is right for you.

This morning I had to get my oil changed. I snoozed a little too long and missed my morning trip to the golden throne. Rushed out the door, I drove to Jiffy Lube in an uncomfortable state. Arriving at my destination, I was confronted with the filthy bathroom at the Jiffy Lube. My lack of commitment to my morning poop cycle had led to my coming face to face with this dilemma. Wait it out for the comfort of my own throne and break the cycle or suck it up and savor what was left of my morning joy? Committing myself to excellence, I ventured into the Jiffy Lube bathroom, constructed a nest built for the Greek Gods, and finished off what could have been a bad start to my day. So off I drove in my car, fresh oil change, and a empty tank ready to be refueled by lunch.

Moral of the story, a man's cycle is a beautiful part of life. When faced with adversity, just as in anything else, make the choice to commit to your cycle because once you steer off course you run the risk of losing the thing you have work so hard to achieve.

Be A Man, Make the Right Choice.

GM

Rough Night, Good Morning

Whiskey filled nights. We all love and hate them, they can be the most fun, and the most anger filled. After a night of heavy drinking and good times to be followed by warring with those around you, I wake up with a hungover. I'm in a land of uncomfortable feelings mentally and physically. I quickly begin to handle the hangover with a cup of coffee and aspirin, but the sour taste of the last nights encounter still linger. Then it happens. The coffee bubbles, my stomach twitches, and I'm back home. My body says "enough of this" and sends me to my place of peace. A short 15 minutes later I'm back at neutral. Pooping has always been a cleansing experience, sometimes I forget that its not only a physical cleansing, but a mental cleansing as well. I'll leave you with this, when things don't go as you want them to, remember that soon enough you will be purging yourself of your garbage, mental or physical at some time. Don't forget how much taking a dump means to you, sometimes we take it for granted, but when we need it to flush out our toxins, it does a damn good job. For that I say thank you colon.

"When life gives your lemons, say fuck the lemons and bail" or take a huge shit and move on. -JB