Another bathroom etiquette memo: Do you have a prehensile rectum?

Look, Fuckwicket,I know you got your problems. I’m aware of the fact that your metabolisim causes you to have to be in the bathroom five seconds after you eat. Or you’re taking exlax with each meal, I don’t know, but whatever the case, can’t you clean up after yourself?

You can’t weigh more than 120 lbs, and I’ve been working with you for years. Every single time I’ve used the crapper after you, it’s a mess. Today was just the final straw.

There was shit on the seat. There was shit under the seat. There was shit on the front of the toilet tank. There was shit on the top of the toilet tank. There was shit on the outside of the bowl, on the floor, and on the roll of toilet paper. Shit on the left wall, shit on the right. Shit on the spare roll and shit all over the handle of the crapper. There was shit on the hot water tap. There was shit on the door of the john. there was a nearly dime sized spatter of shit on the ceiling

Do you have a prehensile rectum that you can extend on a stalk like a snail’s eye and aim? How in the name of all that is unholy do you get shit everywhere? Is there a feces-hurling monkey which lives in your shorts and comes out only to smear the bathroom with shit?

On the rare(thankfully) occasions I’ve had to be in the same room when you were fouling our nice clean crapper, it sounds like someone is shooting a machine gun into the toilet. Ever think that you could cut back on the laxative? or maybe just not eat an entire box of Colon Blow cereal every morning? It’s not necesary for the shit to come out at mach .7 each time. Even if there’s nothing you can do to change your habits, could you make some kind of effort to clean up the flecks of shit you insist on leaving everywhere? Hell, there’s a closet in the john which is always unlocked and has the cleaning supplies! What in the shit-flinging fuck does your home look like? And while I’ve got a full head of steam, think about the guy who has to follow you in the crapper and flush. Nobody wants to come in the john and find that there’s… I can’t even describe it. Just flush, fuckwicket.

I’m going to make a concerted effort not to lie in wait for you and make you lick the crapper clean. Much as I find it pleasurable to think of doing so. I’ve started using the unisex restroom that the truckers use, it’s usually much cleaner. Hope you eventually drown in it you filthy piece of shit.


Is anybody else struck by the irony that it was Billy who posted this?

I know this gets done a lot, but I’m still struck by just how truly awesome Prehensile Rectum would be for a band name.

Even better if the lead singer’s name was Fuckwicket.

Egad, another scatological thread. What trend is this I’ve started?

these threads have been going on since LONG before your time.

If you know who it is, why not just confront them (in public) about it and maybe embarrass them into not doing it again?

I was wondering if this person may have Crohn’s Disease. I had a former boss that was afflicted with it, and it’s not a fun ailment to have, to say the least.

Of course, she never left a bathroom like you described; messy, crap everywhere, etc. But the other things you mentioned sounded very much the way she described herself in the john. She always had a huge box of matches in the ladie’s room for after she left it. (And believe me, it was most appreciated.)

Even if this person does have Crohn’s, that’s no excuse for leaving the bathroom like that. That is just the most disgusting, filthy thing I believe I’ve ever heard.

Good God- I almost shit my pants laughing at that OP! (speaking of messes)


At first I thought the title of the thread said “barroom etiquette”, referring to the tipping thread as the first one. I was wondering what sort of bars you went to that would involve prehensile rectums. The best I could come up with was picking tips up off the bar with one’s ass.

In comparison, the actual OP was a bit mundane.

holding head in both hands, elbows flapping back and forth desperately


Chill, Crank. It’s ok. Put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck, it always helps me. And sorry to disturb your ironic sensibilities.


Most poetic, I must say.

I compared Allen Ginsberg’s Howl with Billy Rubin’s Prehensile Rectum:

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked…
Do you have a prehensile rectum that you can extend on a stalk like a snail’s eye and aim?

The similarities are remarkable! By the way, I seem to have misplaced my tinfoil beanie…

Nice, er, use of adjectives.

But, really, there was shit on the ceiling? Maybe, MAYBE there’s a way it got on the other stuff, like it got all over his hands and he started smearing. On the ceiling, however, means it was flung.

If you’re up to it, a video camera could provide enough “persuasion” to force the guy with the machine-gun ass (Also a good band name IMO) into better behavior.

I still haven’t been able to read the entire OP - I keep falling off my chair with my eyes squiched up from laughing, gasping for breath.

Geez, and I though MY co-workers were awful!!!

Could we be dealing with a squatter? One of those paranoid folks who cannot bring himself to let his precious ass touch a public toilet seat? That behavior combined with a bad case of the shits could very well cause what you describe.

Man, that made my day. Thank you.

This morning, privately, I confronted Mr. Fuckwicket. As nicely as possible. Apparently he does use, perhaps overuse, laxatives. He feels that if his digestive tract has anything in it he’ll immediately begin to get fat, and he can’t stand fat. So he shits like the exhaust of a jet engine. No Crohn’s nor other physical illness.

He hates it when the water from the toilet splashes up on him so he sits way forward on the seat and leans over so he doesn’t get splashed. Hence, the spray all over the crapper, and everything else.

Astounded, and a little disgusted, that he would confide this much information to me, I suggested he look around after he’s done and try to clean up after himself, then other people started showing up at work and I went back to my cube. Thinking, I’m sick because I’m overeight. Yeah, right.

And Green Bean-I’ve always likened myself more to Burroughs than Ginsburg. (hehe!!)


Since you already approached him (did he agree to clean up after himself??), you could forward him this link:
http ://www. laxatives.html

I can understand the laxative abuse and the making of the mess, but what on earth is his excuse for not cleaning up??


Wow! Wonderfully funny rant.

I’m sorry to hear about his laxative abuse, but that is no excuse for not cleaning up. Especially if the cleaning supplies are readily available.

I am amazed both that you confronted him and that he actually explained. It is my sincere wish that I never have that conversation with any of my co-workers.

By god, then it shall be on the list!