Yesterday at the supermarket I felt a twinge of shame. I had gone there to buy one thing, toilet paper. As soon as I picked it up I could feel the furtive glances. Others assuming as they silently passed judgement that I was silently passing gas. They knew. They knew that I had pooped and was planning to poop again in the future. Maybe a lot. I imagined that at least one of them thought to themselves, “Sheesh! That’s a lot of toilet paper for one person. He must really have a problem.” So of course I bought another item so that the other customers and the cashier wouldn’t think that I had come there just for toilet tissue. I bought ginger ale. When you do buy that one additional item with toilet paper, make sure it’s not paper towels or tissues. People will assume the obvious.
We all do it. When we’re buying any product that has anything to do with our nether regions, we feel a little embarrassment even though every other person on the planet does exactly what we do every day. Why? Why do we all get that little twinge of shame at others knowing our booty business? ( I just coined the phrase “booty business”. If I ever own a strip club, or an exclusive toilet paper boutique, that’s what I’m going to name it.)
You’re damn right Oprah. Everybody poops. Even the Pope poops. Although I imagine that the Pope pooping has got to be a process. It can’t be easy to get out of that robe quickly. That thing is like a wedding dress. Do the Cardinals have to help him? What does he do if the urge comes on all of a sudden? Maybe he had a questionable taco late night and next morning he’s in the middle of Sunday mass at the Vatican. If you and I are at work, we can just pop off to the loo for a few minutes without anybody noticing. The Pope however doesn’t have that luxury. What if it’s an “emergency” and he has to leave in the middle of mass and forgets to take his microphone off? You thought the puffs of smoke coming from the Vatican chimney are announcing a new Pope? Not always! Pope poop problems sort of put my buying toilet paper embarrassment in perspective.
What about the President or Prime Minister? They’ve got security with them at all times! If they’re away from home giving speeches, does the security have to enter the rest room with them? I’d love to listen to their communications into their little microphones and earpieces at a time like that.
“Bravo One reporting. The Eagle needs a nest ASAP. We may have a nuclear emergency, if you know what I mean.”
“Bravo Charlie Zulu reporting. We have located a nest. The Eagle has landed. I repeat, The Eagle has landed (cough, cough) and ugh. Eeeew! Jeez! What did he eat last night? Oh my God. I am not getting paid enough for this.”
“Bravo One reporting. Umm Bravo Charlie Zulu, your mic is still live. I repeat. You mic is still live.”
“Bravo Charlie Zulu reporting. My mic may be live, but whatever came out of him definitely isn’t. (vomiting noises)
Do the security guys have to stand right outside the door every time a President goes all day long? When I’m the President, that’s going to cause problems for me. I won’t be able to just let it go.
Parody video by Nick L’Mao and singing by Sarah Brown
Yes, I know some of you may be disappointed that I took the low road and departed from my usual high brow, intellectual humor, but c’mon, wasn’t this funny? And in laughing about and learning about others booty business, don’t we all feel better?
As always, if you enjoyed #ThePhilFactor feel free to share it by hitting the Facebook or Twitter share buttons below. Have a great weekend and a great poo! ~Phil