Diarrhea, my friend.
I enjoy having diarrhea. It's like a once-in-a-while cleanse. What's even better is that I end up weighing less in the morning. So what if it was mostly water, or if it's temporary. Sometimes that's the motivation that keeps me exercising. Diarrhea gives me a head start when I'm falling off the wagon. Diarrhea makes me run faster when I'm running strong.
Of course, it has to come naturally. Otherwise it's not special. Inducing diarrhea doesn't make it special. It has to be unexpected.
Usually, around my monthlies, I get a surprise visit or two. I think it's the hormones. And, unlike when my MIL visits, these guests are welcomed...unless I'm not home. I have trouble pooping at places that are not home.
Let me tell you about this one time when I was on my way home from MIL's house. We had some tasteless steak and some potatoes, and probably some salad. I think I can type a whole post about how bad MIL's cooking is. That wench doesn't even know the difference between scallions and shallots. Well, thirty minutes after din-din, my tummy was a-rumblin'. I told Chuck that it was time to head home. Not even five minutes on the road, I felt like I was going to shit my pants, so we made a stop at this gas station with a convenient store.
I made a mad dash to the restroom, and holy crap, someone must've eaten MIL's food prior to me because that place was SMEARED WITH SHIT. That's right! Shit on the toilet seat, shit on the floor, shit on the toilet paper, on the mirror, the sink, the knobs, the walls! But what was a girl to do? I HAD to go. So I just squatted over the toilet. It wasn't even a squat. It was like, "I'll just stand up and hope it drops into the toilet!" Luckily, there was a roll of paper towels that was not so much covered in shit that I could use to wipe my ass. I didn't know whether to wash my hands or not (keep in mind that the faucet's knobs were covered in feces), but I grabbed a really small part of the knob with another sheet of folded paper towel, ran my hands under the water, was kind enough to turn it off (!!!) and ran away!
...until the convenient store clerk asked me, "Is it pretty nasty in there?" Haha. I said, "yup," and she told me that a boy asked to use the restroom but came out and told her that it's pretty nasty in there, and left without using it. Pussy. I ground my shoe into the floor as much as I could to get any stuck-on poop off before I got in the car.
I wish I had a camera with me.
Of course, it has to come naturally. Otherwise it's not special. Inducing diarrhea doesn't make it special. It has to be unexpected.
Usually, around my monthlies, I get a surprise visit or two. I think it's the hormones. And, unlike when my MIL visits, these guests are welcomed...unless I'm not home. I have trouble pooping at places that are not home.
Let me tell you about this one time when I was on my way home from MIL's house. We had some tasteless steak and some potatoes, and probably some salad. I think I can type a whole post about how bad MIL's cooking is. That wench doesn't even know the difference between scallions and shallots. Well, thirty minutes after din-din, my tummy was a-rumblin'. I told Chuck that it was time to head home. Not even five minutes on the road, I felt like I was going to shit my pants, so we made a stop at this gas station with a convenient store.
I made a mad dash to the restroom, and holy crap, someone must've eaten MIL's food prior to me because that place was SMEARED WITH SHIT. That's right! Shit on the toilet seat, shit on the floor, shit on the toilet paper, on the mirror, the sink, the knobs, the walls! But what was a girl to do? I HAD to go. So I just squatted over the toilet. It wasn't even a squat. It was like, "I'll just stand up and hope it drops into the toilet!" Luckily, there was a roll of paper towels that was not so much covered in shit that I could use to wipe my ass. I didn't know whether to wash my hands or not (keep in mind that the faucet's knobs were covered in feces), but I grabbed a really small part of the knob with another sheet of folded paper towel, ran my hands under the water, was kind enough to turn it off (!!!) and ran away!
...until the convenient store clerk asked me, "Is it pretty nasty in there?" Haha. I said, "yup," and she told me that a boy asked to use the restroom but came out and told her that it's pretty nasty in there, and left without using it. Pussy. I ground my shoe into the floor as much as I could to get any stuck-on poop off before I got in the car.
I wish I had a camera with me.