I tend to agree with the “Fortress of Solitude” theory, especially now that I have a kid.
And it is logical that the big sliders come out faster than the little marbles. When you crash out a monster log, you know you’re done, so there’s no point sitting around enjoying the smell. The little marbles only happen when you’re plugged up. Nobody likes a 3-car pileup at the last exit from the Hershey Highway.
I do notice that if I lay some serious cable but wait a while to get up because I’m reading something interesting, I sometimes experience what I call “Phase 2”. Phase 2 is a series of small, soft turds that sort of accumulate on top of the main event. They always leave me with an unsatisfied feeling of having “pinched off” something.
Perhaps you are enjoying it a little too much, my friend.
Seriously, in the words of the great sage Harvey Pekar …
The best thing is a good shit. Ya can’t beat it. Ya go up to dat toilet all tight an’ heavy inside … den … ya dump your load. Now … a’mit it … doncha feel good? Relaxed? At peace with da worl’?
We’ll give you the straight dope when you tell us why it takes half a day for you to “get ready.”
I can get up in the morning, (and in no particular order) take a shower, shave, get dressed, eat breakfast, make my lunch, brush my teeth, watch the news, clean up after myself and take a piss and a shit and be out of the house in 30 minutes flat.
OTOH, Mrs. Duckster can take a shower (including washing her hair)) the night before, iron her clothes and lay them out (the night before), not make breakfast or lunch, not watch the news, but do everything else and be out the door in two hours flat.
So what do you women do that takes four times as long, just to “get ready?”
My dad takes a long time, though but then, you SO do not want to go in there after he’s been in there. :eek: :eek: :eek:
Duckster, my dad takes about an hour and a half to get ready. He spends more time in the bathroom getting ready than I ever do. He showers, shaves, does his hair (which is thin and about half an inch long, but he stands there, examining it, spraying it…)
It could be worse. Some breastfed babies poop weekly, or even less. One of my boys holds the family record at eleven days. Then he got this serious little frowny face, gave a grunt, and the room was filled with a familiar scent…
This is when you look at contents of the diaper, look at the size of the kid’s abdomen, and wonder how he violates the laws of physics like that :eek:
However, I note he didn’t need thirty minutes in the bathroom or a back issue of Donald Duck to accomplish this task
[spoiler]So, I posted on another thread and decided to do a little “timed trial.” I got my Official Poop-Timer Cross-Country Coaches’ Watch ™ and stood at the bathroom door. I started the watch and went in.
My routine consisted of the following: turn on the exhaust, ignore the radio, ignore the book, just drop and plop. A semi-solid brown tentacle made its way to the biscuit-barrel, appropriately, followed by a few more smaller nuggets. Grunt, wipe, stop the watch.
Total elapsed time: 65 seconds. It would have been 60, but the extra-soft toilet paper I insisted on buying at Costco stuck to my bunghole, requiring extra maneuvering.[/spoiler]
My wife and I just built a house. It is a very pretty house. Even the bathroom. It has light yellow walls, white trim, a marble floor, two-bowl vanity with cherry cabinets, lots of natural light, a two person shower, a jetted tub, and orchids everywhere. It also has a toilet.
While my bathroom is a lovely place, warm and inviting, when I have to shit I go in, do my business, and leave. No reading, no pondering the meaning of life. I’m there to evacuate my bowels, not prepare for a literature exam or write my Noble Prize acceptance speech. As I’ve said before, I have rooms with more comfortable chairs that don’t smell like shit if I want to read or think.
I know I can’t dictate what people type or say but I really didn’t want to turn this into a “Men, Aren’t They The Worst?” comedy routine. I am a wife, and I don’t think my husband is going to the bathroom to ‘escape my nagging clutches’ or to get some peace or what have you. We’re a very happy couple (ten years married). Also, it takes me, at the outside, twenty minutes to get ready for the day.
I don’t want to sound bitchy, but ‘hilarious’ gender bashing gets in my craw
God bless you and keep you, Mr. Pekar. That post-evacuation glow can and often does rival that feeling of well-being and contentedness one gets after another, similar session of grunting and sweating done with one’s pants off. I strongly suspect it has something to do with the vagus nerve.
Tentacle Monster, I’ve held to that inverse relationship between size and effort for nigh on to ten years now and it hasn’t failed me yet. Funny thing is, either way you often end up with a WTF moment - “I spent five minutes on that?!” or “How the F*CK did that stay in my body without tearing something?!”
I have a two-part theory regarding this phenomenon. It has nothing to do with reading in a stinky room, or finding the one stinky place for some peace and quiet. Those are just excuses because men do not want us to know the real truth about why they spend so much time in there.
Perineal muscles. Can you say, “Kegel exercises”? I thought you could. Women, I believe, have far better developed muscles in that region, primarily because we are designed to push out babies. Therefore, it must be far easier for us to push out something as teeny and painless as a little poo – all those muscles down there are connected. Men, especially after childbirth, do not do Kegel exercises in general, to get their elasticity back. This, IMHO, contributes to their impaired, takes-25-minutes, pooping abilities.
Prostate. Men have a prostate gland. Makes things feel nice when they are going up or down their colon. (Ever seen those bead things in the sex shop? Looks like a dozen beads connected together on a chain. Those go up boy butts to enhance the orgasm becuase the beads stimulate the prostate. Its the same reason some gay men enjoy anal sex.) Ergo, pooping also stimulates the prostate. I think men are masturbating in there a lot more than any of 'em care to admit to. Pooping feels good so they drag it out.
Finally, for the record, it takes me 30 minutes to get ready for work and about 15 to get ready for anything else. I do not wear makeup, but I do go to work with wet hair and I only put on one outfit per day. (I am not the kind of person who is so indecisive that I have to change clothes 15 times before I can leave. THAT’s what takes some people so long to get ready.) My routine includes:
• Shower, dry and get dressed,
• Feed dogs, refill water bowls and let dogs out to pee
• Feed cats
• Make coffee, prepare “to go” container
• Make breakfast smoothie, prepare 2nd “to go” container.
• Dog-proof the living room, lock doors and leave.
When I was a kid, it seemed like things might have moved a little faster, but that would be offset by the length of the monstrosity I’d produce. Getting all that exercise, I’d only have to squat about once a week but when I did my poopage would resemble one of those ships laying out the transatlantic cable. I’d fill the bowl so full that after I flushed the number and length of skid marks rivaled the strating line of a drag strip.
Nowadays, maybe it takes a little longer but at least the volume is a paltry fraction of it’s former self.
If you are in ongoing weightloss phase, you can get 10 servings of veggies in a day…at least I manage to…I do 5 small meals/snacks in a day and my blood chemistry is wonderful [no more metformin <happy dance>]
If you want, I can pass on recipes…or at least you can take fibercon…
I’m on maintenance, but all my life, bowel movements have been an issue. There are countless threads on my GI tract I’ve never in my life gone more than three times a week. My greatest span? 31 days. Fibercon does NOTHING to my mighty bowel. And still, even if I have one poop a week, it just comes out within a minute.
:eek:
