Monday, March 01, 2004
What's Up With Guys and Shit??
You know, I was talking to my girlfriends the other day about the fascination men have with their bowel movements. Practically, every guy that has become a close friend will relay some story about his shit, whether it's being on the toilet or in a Mexican restaurant suffering from diarrhea and wearing light colored pants. I've been perusing some weblogs, and I have found multiple entries that begin with the male writer taking a dump. Guys like to talk about their shits - why? Well, my girlfriends weren't really that interested in analyzing the male's enthrallment with defecation; they just agreed that guys are weird about their poo. So I had to mull it over by myself while sitting in the evening traffic. I have a couple of hypotheses:
(1a) It's an instinctive thing; it comes from the whole natural order of things - males being males and females being females. Guys need to spread their "scent" and mark their territory. But since the world became civilized and the use of toilets was declared mandatory, men could no longer share their anal creations alongside trees and bushes. So to compensate, they have to talk about it. I wonder if guys even notice how much they refer to their shits.
(1b) This hypothesis goes along with (1a). Males can't resist the urge to one-up each other in comparing poo stories. The more precarious the situation in which the shit takes place (for instance, in pants during a date or the discovery of dingle berries tangled in ass hair during sex) and the messier the shit is (low in viscosity and possibly containing undigested particles of food) makes for a good shit story to share with the guys. The undigested particles of food reminds me of this line in Full Metal Jacket - Private Joker (Matthew Modine - very cute) tells some wise ass of a guy to eat the peanuts out of his shit. That line left a permanent impression in my young child psyche. It made me think of the corn and grains I would see in horse manure and all the other possible treasures you could find in feces. I still found it disgusting, but at the age of 10, I couldn't help but wonder.
(2) I'm going out on a limb with this one, but here's my other theory: guys can't bear children, so they give birth to terds. How else can you explain the long periods of time they spend sitting in the bathroom, immersed in the stink of their baby terds? They're a proud parent of the floater in the toilet. They want to relish their creation as long as possible before having to press down on the handle, leaving an empty porcelain nest - so long, home stinky home.
You know, when I'm hanging out with a guy and he starts to go into some story of one of his poo escapades, I get rather insulted. I think to myself, "Shit, he must not think very highly of me, if he's telling me of an event that shows him in such a poor light." It's like the time when this very annoying guy was hitting on me at a show, and he just wasn't getting the hint. So I pointed out the wart on my finger that was slowly disintegrating from my daily salicylic acid treatments. It looked like it was overcome with mold and scabby things. I think I even started to pick it in front of him. I can't remember if he took off, or if I had to escape... but the point is that I was purposely trying to give a bad impression. Girls don't really like elaborate poop stories. When in doubt, just don't bring it up.
Well, that's that. As far as women, well, we don't really go into great detail about shit. Jen will let me know that she needs to poop when I'm in the bathroom getting ready for work (she takes morning shits), basically hinting for me to hurry the Hell up. I let her know too, but it's pretty embarrassing when she and Rob are in the shower; guys don't need to know about a girl pooing. Sometimes Jen and I talk about how we have to poop right after a run or when the last time it was that we pooped for fear of constipation or overly-aggressive metabolism. But the distinction is that women don't get into the nastiness of it all. It's a bodily function for us, but for men, it's... well, I have two and a half hypotheses, and that's all I've been able to figure out.
On a side note: If you concentrate too hard while flexing your pecs, in hopes of getting both tassels to twirl in opposite directions, you'll end up tooting if you had beans for lunch. Tee, hee, hee
(1a) It's an instinctive thing; it comes from the whole natural order of things - males being males and females being females. Guys need to spread their "scent" and mark their territory. But since the world became civilized and the use of toilets was declared mandatory, men could no longer share their anal creations alongside trees and bushes. So to compensate, they have to talk about it. I wonder if guys even notice how much they refer to their shits.
(1b) This hypothesis goes along with (1a). Males can't resist the urge to one-up each other in comparing poo stories. The more precarious the situation in which the shit takes place (for instance, in pants during a date or the discovery of dingle berries tangled in ass hair during sex) and the messier the shit is (low in viscosity and possibly containing undigested particles of food) makes for a good shit story to share with the guys. The undigested particles of food reminds me of this line in Full Metal Jacket - Private Joker (Matthew Modine - very cute) tells some wise ass of a guy to eat the peanuts out of his shit. That line left a permanent impression in my young child psyche. It made me think of the corn and grains I would see in horse manure and all the other possible treasures you could find in feces. I still found it disgusting, but at the age of 10, I couldn't help but wonder.
(2) I'm going out on a limb with this one, but here's my other theory: guys can't bear children, so they give birth to terds. How else can you explain the long periods of time they spend sitting in the bathroom, immersed in the stink of their baby terds? They're a proud parent of the floater in the toilet. They want to relish their creation as long as possible before having to press down on the handle, leaving an empty porcelain nest - so long, home stinky home.
You know, when I'm hanging out with a guy and he starts to go into some story of one of his poo escapades, I get rather insulted. I think to myself, "Shit, he must not think very highly of me, if he's telling me of an event that shows him in such a poor light." It's like the time when this very annoying guy was hitting on me at a show, and he just wasn't getting the hint. So I pointed out the wart on my finger that was slowly disintegrating from my daily salicylic acid treatments. It looked like it was overcome with mold and scabby things. I think I even started to pick it in front of him. I can't remember if he took off, or if I had to escape... but the point is that I was purposely trying to give a bad impression. Girls don't really like elaborate poop stories. When in doubt, just don't bring it up.
Well, that's that. As far as women, well, we don't really go into great detail about shit. Jen will let me know that she needs to poop when I'm in the bathroom getting ready for work (she takes morning shits), basically hinting for me to hurry the Hell up. I let her know too, but it's pretty embarrassing when she and Rob are in the shower; guys don't need to know about a girl pooing. Sometimes Jen and I talk about how we have to poop right after a run or when the last time it was that we pooped for fear of constipation or overly-aggressive metabolism. But the distinction is that women don't get into the nastiness of it all. It's a bodily function for us, but for men, it's... well, I have two and a half hypotheses, and that's all I've been able to figure out.
On a side note: If you concentrate too hard while flexing your pecs, in hopes of getting both tassels to twirl in opposite directions, you'll end up tooting if you had beans for lunch. Tee, hee, hee
