I can’t tell you why I do it. Maybe I think it’s funny. Maybe it gets me off I don’t know. But boy, do I do it.

I plan my poop based actions very deliberately. Choosing, carefully, purpousefully, what I eat and when I eat it. I can go from zero to shitsville in minutes. I start off in the stall, just like everyone else. I take my shoes, sometimes socks off and stick them behind the toilet, should things get messy. Then my pants come off. If there is somewhere to hang them up, they will go there. If not, behind the toilet they go too, along with my underwear. Now, the deed is close to fruition. I begin to shit. I don’t know what cosistency it will be, unless of course I have that planned. In some cases, I will plan my shit attacks for days, weeks. More often than not, however, it is spontaneous. But back to shitting. I begin like anyone else would, shitting until I don’t have much left. Then, as you could probably assume, I do not wipe. I then proceed to take my hand and stick it either up my shithole or back into the magnificent brownout creation I have just forged with my almighty anus. Next, I go crazy in the stall. Floor, toilet and wall are caked in my shit. I make sure not to get any anywhere someone could accidentally touch. I’m not a psychopath.

If no one is in the bathroom, and it is late at night, or just plain busy, I will often times shit my underwear, wrap that shit and some piss into a ball, and spin it over my head like a guy throwing a lasso, spreading my shit and piss like a Pollack painting. I don’t like to do this often, as I usually require a shower, as I smell of piss or shit.


This isn’t a sexual fetish or anything. Personally, I find the smells repulsive. No, I do it just for solidarity. I want to remind myself that, we came from monkies and apes. We are not perfect. Remember that.