What's your favorite part of the day? Is it that moment when you see your girlfriend in the morning with one of those “I can't believe I let you bang my brown eye” type smiles? That warm feeling you get when you slip into your neatly-made, freshly-urinated-in bed at night? The taste of a delicious KID CUISINE dinner at the Lohans? Those are all wonderful, but mine is a little different. The best part of my day is taking a big ol' dumperoo.


* Taking a shit has many upsides. Ever shit while peeing? I mean, at the same exact time? Isn't that amazing? It's almost cathartic. Like sneezing when you come. Furthermore, is it even possible to shit and NOT take a whiz through the entire duration of the brown drop? NASA should get involved with this.

* You get to tell people about it. I used to be boring about it. “Excuse me, grandma, I've got to go take a poo.” Now that I'm older, and wiser, I can better communicate my ass-shooting needs to my friends, family, and clergymen. Here are some of my faves: What can brown do for me? Let's find out. I'm gonna go watch the Cosby Show, if you catch my drift.

Ok, seriously, which one of you bullshitters left that Mexican dump?

* Even grammar is fun when you're discussing shit. How come it's called “taking a shit”? Shouldn't it be called “leaving a shit”? Does anyone ever take the shit with them? Like a goody bag? “I'll take this shit, and put it under my pillow. Then the poo fairy will come and give me a dollar, so I can buy another Taco Bell bean burrito, after which I can shit some more.” It's the circle of life. It's the wheel of fortune. It's the leap of faith. It's the band of hope. ‘Til we find our place. On the path unwinding. In the circle, the circle of life. Whoa, settle down, Simba.


* Taking a dump in many ways is like war, because, ummm I dunno. Sorry to go all Kevin Garnett on you. Support the troops!

* Ever take a shit and the last piece of shit hits the water, then the water splashes up your ass? And you start worrying that the poo-water will form some kind of colony in your anus? Yeah, me too.

* Ever sloppy-shit, and no matter how much paper you use, you can't dry up the Sudan massacre in your asshole? Interesting side note, ever try to wipe your ass with one-ply thinking it's two-ply, and then your hand comes out looking like you just gave Count Chocula a handjob? (By the way, if you've got a fetish for metaphors, you've about blown your load twice at this point.)


* Ever let fly a diesel fart? I mean a fart that could strip the Sistine Chapel bare? A fart that could make doves cry? A fart one might expect after Jeremy Shockey gets done with a bottle of tequila? Anyhoozle, ever let go a fart so nasty, you know, just for kicks? Give your pals a good laugh? Impress the ladies? Make your dad proud? Kill the dog? You let go a Chernobyl stinker, and what happens? You shit your FUCKING PANTS! It's the original comic tragedy, isn't it?

* Ever hear your mom fart? Boy that's worse than seeing her naked, isn't it? It's not like one of your buddies breaks wind—which of course is hilarious, and at times, deadly. It's just an awkward situation. You shouldn't know your mom this well. It's too familiar, like when your mom asks you to pick her up some Tampax at the Store 24.

* And finally, have you ever taken a shit, and it sounds totally amazing? Like you've just baked a liquid cake with corn and asparagus icing? Then you finish up, wipe the sweat from your brow, curl your lip, and admire your masterpiece…AND NOTHING'S THERE! Where'd it go? You heard splashing! You brought da noise, and sweet merciful Jesus, you done brought da funk. But nothing. NOTHING. Where did it go? What do you do? I'll tell you what you do. You check your anus, you know, the point of origin. You stick a wad of TP up there, and it comes out whiter than the crowd at a Calgary Flames game. It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it. Like why Coach Bombay kept using Averman as a first-line winger in the Mighty Ducks films, given that the kid didn't even register a point in three goddamn movies!

On a personal note, I'll be submitting this article to the Pulitzer committee, so wish me luck.