My Profound Fear Of Poop.

Pre PS: First of all, what do we think of the fact
that my best friend only has sex with her husband
about once a month.  They have a really good
emotional and intellectual relationship and they
both really like sex.  And they are not generally
over tired.  What does this mean?
I wanna know!!!!!!!



I fell in a sewer when I was 8.
A German Sewer, to make matters worse.

I was exploring the local haunted house,
kicked back a VW Bug trunk lid that was
lying on the ground, and slipped into the
hole it was covering...only to find myself
chest high in shit.

Reader, the only thing that saved me from
drowning in this deep hole of shit
was that I flung out my arms and stopped
myself from completely falling in.

I could have drowned in shit.
And NOBODY would have known where
I was.  Floating down a long shit hole.

What the fuck was I doing wandering the
streets at 8 years old anyway????
O Mom...

So I pushed myself up.
Dragged my ass home.
And was put in the bathtub by the
red-headed after school tutor.

Since Then?
Me and Poop?
I am only really able to deal with my own.
(And I do love to take me a poop.)

My first serious boyfriend, who I loved
dearly and am still friends with, is quite
brilliant and can not stop talking. 

Even to the point where, horrors of
horrors, he would insist on calling me into
the loo while he was pooping. And what
he was saying was usually so interesting
that I would actually succumb to at least
sitting just outside the open door, managing
my vomit reflex, while listening to him
go on and on about Brecht or Bartok
or Big Giant Black Holes.

Big Giant Black Holes OF POOP!!!!!

Even animals feel my fear of poop.

I was left alone with a baby once.

This baby was my godchild.
She, like so many other babies, had the
delightful sense of humor that triggered
the Poop Reaction as soon as her mother
left me alone with her.


"Ok Baby," I said, "It's you and I and
your poop...alone together...we can get
through this.  I promise, PROMISE, not
to vomit on you." 

As I was changing the diaper,
retching all the way through,
the family cat wound herself around
my feet and encircled and laid down
on them...purring furiously.
"You will get THROUGH this forest of
poop!" she seemed to be purring.

The latest occasion of loveliness was the other
day when Beloved and I were buying building
supplies at the French version of Home Depot
"Mr. Bricolage" (Mr. Putter Around The House).

"O! Beloved! I need to pee" said I.

Into the bathroom I trot...only to find:


I could not move.
And then I vomited.

Ok.  I exaggerate.
I didn't vomit.


Some poor body iller than ill can be
rushed into the bathroom, pulled down their pants,
and (and imagine how fast this must have been)
bent at the waist and wasted the walls with
a horizontal geyser of poop.

That Poor. Dear. Darling of a Person!!!

I was once in such a position.

I had just arrived in LA.
I was feeling confident and happy
and even something thing like attractive.
Everyone was incredibly nice to me
those first couple of weeks.

While looking for an apartment I met
a man with whom I ended up talking and
he then invited me out to dinner with
himself and his boyfriend.

Free Grub!!!

So I dress myself up in a short, tight dress
and heels (very, very rare for me whose
favorite new piece of clothing is still
my Batman Hoodie) and gamboled out
to meet the boys on Melrose Blvd at
a great. thai. restaurant.

Who knew about the horrors of Thai. Iced. Tea.

Clearly not Me.
I drank TWO!

After the dinner we decided to wander
around Melrose Blvd which, at that time, was
a street full of fashion boutiques, tattoo parlours,
indie record stores, and restaurants.

All of a sudden, mid-wander, I am hit,
I mean HIT, with the need to shit.

I am in the middle of the street.
In heels and a tight, short dress.
With two men whom I do not know.

And I feel like a flame is trying to shoot
out of my butt.

I follow the guys into a tattoo parlour
and casually and discretly ask the desk
dude if I can use his toilet.

"HA HA HA HA HA" he basically says...

With ass clenched, we "wander" into
another store...same. fucking. thing.


At this point, my most sensitive and
dear Reader, the shit in my bowels
is starting to release poison into my system.

I am sweating.
I am sure I am going to faint.

"You look pale!" says one of the lovely fellows.
"Are you ok?"

I have to fess up.  "I think I need to pee"
I practically weep.

We are on a mission.
And there is no end in sight.

I am going to die.
An Irish pub.

I run in...in a most tight assed way.
I run up to the barman.

"If I cannot use your toilet
I will die in a pool of shit right
here in front of all of your very hip customers"
I say.

Let me tell you.
If I had not arrived when I did.
And not had that extra second to angle
my butt down.
There would have been poop
all over those Irish pub toilet walls.

While reflecting on the beauty
of indoor plumbing.
I conjured up what I knew would
be an Oscar Winning Performance.

a beautiful restaurant.
dim lighting, soft and tasteful music.
Seated at a table is a couple.
He is in a fine suit.
She is dressed in a long slinky silver robe.

They are very much in love.
Or at least, she believes they are.
Suddenly she understands that he is
telling her that he no longer loves
her, that he never loved her, that he
could never love her, that he is leaving her.

She gets up unsteadily from the table.
She is in total and complete shock.
Her world, as they say, is crumbling around her.

She turns to walk out of the restaurant.

As she totters away we see a stain
start to appear on her dress.

And then a stream
of liquid shit
rushes down her legs
seeping through the silver fabric.

She stumbles from the restaurant.

The actress???????????


OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It would even beat Kate (The Great) Winslet's
amazing pee scene in "Holy Smoke"!!

How many of you felt that way when
you heart had just been unexpectedly
and brutally crushed!!

Where is the director with
enough guts to do this scene!!!!

I know The Pfeiffer would be up for it!!!!

Just like I know so many of you are up
for the Tasty Sperm challange
(hah! you were wondering when that was
going to come up again).

but i digress.

in summary.
not a thing I want to play with.
but a thing.
that i do like to do.

When any beautiful and elegant
actress shits herself in a movie...
I will be calling for my residuals!


Tammy said...

Oh my goodness....My stomach hurts from laughing so much! Just when I thought you were done you kept going!
I'm really sorry you fell into a sewer!
eh, trying to use a public restroom in the US is an enormous feat...
I have my own poop treatsie over at my blog, great minds must think alike.

The Queen of Hearts said...

I read your comment on Sister Wolf about love addiction and it really meant a lot to me. I feel like I'm going through something and I'm not sure what but your comment just made so much sense. Thank you eternally for sharing.

well after this, I should think nothing of falling down stairs

La Belette Rouge said...

This should the sequel to "Everybody Poops".

French Shelter said...

Tammy: I'm so Glad! that you found it funny! And, yes, I, too, am very sad I fell into a sewer. However, I doubt I would really like to play much with poop if I hadn't...but then...

Lady Queen: That is so friggin' great that we were able to connect over that. Get the book. It is tremendous.

La Belle Belette: Or to "Everybody Poops Themselves..at some point!"

Evil Twin's Wife said...

I kinda stick to the theory "never trust a fart". So far, it's worked for me.

This whole post had me laughing SO hard!

Marmalade Wombat said...

have you heard about the film 'the human centipede'?

i think it will send your mind into overdrive... it is just so... revolting.

French Shelter said...

I have!!!!!!!

On, I believe, Slate Gabfest!!!!