SELFABSORBED.ME

So I am going to see a boy this weekend. A real live boy. Not even an imaginary one I made up in my head. I will be staying with him in his house...yes, house...that he owns. I know I know, us city folk have no concept of 'homes' or 'owning' ...he told me has a lawn, and that actual animals live there, like squirrels and birds and what not. I am confused by this whole "lawn" thing, so I asked, "you mean the gated area where homeless people sleep?" And he said, "no", that there are actually no homeless people sleeping on his lawn. Odd. I found this to be an interesting concept.

Regardless I am getting distracted from the real point of this conversation. The point being that I am going to be living, eating , sleeping at his place for three whole days, there arising one very important question. A question pertaining to the meaning of life and Jesus and God and what-have-you...and that is....where am I going to shit?

Honestly. Where? I am going to have to go undercover and be the 007 of all shitting. He can't know that I shit! He just can't! What will he think of me?!

So I have started to route out maps and plans in my head. Plans of possible "shitting times" and "shitting areas". All so that it can do down in complete secrecy.

Let us start with restaurants. I figure anytime we eat out, go to Starbucks, ect...that is a perfect time for me to tell him I have to use the bathroom. Like maybe tell him I have to go 'powder my nose'. For real. Men still fall for that 'nose powder' line right? Or wait, is that only cocaine users? See, fuck, I am screwing up the Shitting Plan already!

The other option is right before I take a shower. I an have the water running and the scents from my shampoo are likely to fumigate away any trace of actual shitting to have occurred. But herein lies problem #1- What if he asks to join me in the shower? What the fuck do I do then?! Tell him I have a no shower buddy policy? Tell him he doesn't want to see my massive burn wounds? Hmm, I have to work on this one.

Problem #2 lies in the fact that I am a serial toilet clogger. For real, I can clog any well plumb'ed (is that a word?)toilet across any Continent. There is not a single toilet I have yet to overflow. So do I bring a plunger with me? Stick it in my carry on just to be on the safe side? What if airport security open my bags and want to know why I have an industrial strength plunger with me? What if I am arrested for trying to bring an industrial plunger on the plane and The Boy has to come pick me up from the airport in handcuffs and then they will tell him my entire shitting-life-story?!

Seriously, I am starting to lose sleep over this whole shitting thing. I am starting to think it's best if I just stop eating today and only resume eating after the trip to avoid shitting all together...