I've always heard this called "crowning," like during a birth.
For the most part- yes, I can totally wait hours if needed to poop. Except for times of illness, I have never pooped outside of a house (mine or others) since middle school. Your body gets used to it- it 'learns' to go in the morning or when you get home. I don't feel the 'urge' till the garage starts rising when I get home at night.
THE GARAGE STARTS RISING? Oh, the garage door. Okay. Hey, this reminds me of one of the greatest introductions ever to Chatological Humor. It didn't win the Nobel for medicine, but I hear it made it to the final cut. Here it is, where Dr. Satish Rao and I combine our talents to explain, for the first time, the "Almost Home" phenomenon.
My husband is working on a project that would make beer flourescent (i.e. glowing under a black light). It's complicated and involves him having to learn bioengineering to develop the yeast or something that would cause this to happen (honestly I only half pay attention when he talks about it. Why not just put a glow stick in a glass of beer and be done with it?). His first experiment worked but the beer tasted horrible, so now he's working on a better tasting version. But I wonder if, after consuming it, would your poop glow? I'll have to ask him.
I have a column coming out, I think this weekend, on poop shame. If you could secretly dose somebody with a substance that made their poop glow -- like really bright and eerie Martian-like -- some people would literally die, right there in the stall.
Lots of people wants guns to stay legal because then they can protect themselves and their family. They DO NOT CARE about the costs to the society as a whole. That's it in a nutshell, and the same reasoning applies to food stamps, health care, unemployment, education, etc. Where do we draw the line between "We are all in this together" and "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps"?
Why is it that the people who most want guns to protect themselves and their family tend to be people who live in rural areas a mile from the next house, as opposed to people in cities who really DO have a need to protect themselves and their family?
Judging by the photos on awkwardfamilyphotos.com , it doesn't take anywhere near 50 years for the fashionable to become ludicrous. You're probably familiar with the site, but it's worth revisiting now and then.
What's really great about this site is that sometimes it's hard to articulate what is so wrong with one of these pictures, but you know it's bad. These are existentially bad.
They remind me of the work of an old friend of mine, Michael Carlebach, a brilliant photographer who just has an eye for the mundanely bizarre. Prepare to be delighted.
And definitely here.
James Traficant's bad hair was a rug. And he's also from Ohio.
And finally, on this day of politics and poop, the mention of Traficant's name reminds me of the second best Style Invitational entry of all time. It was by Carole and Stephanie Dix of Gaithersburg, for a contest to create fake legislation using real names of legislators.
The Traficant-DeLay-Akaka roadside port-a-potty-act.