Dear Poopreport,

I was in the Atlanta airport recently, doing my business, when I dropped my cell phone in the toilet. Plop. Uh oh.

I didn't know what to do. On the one hand, it's my cell phone. On the other hand, it's grade-A stank-ass toilet water.

Judging by the gurgling noises coming from the old woman in the next stall, these toilets see some serious action. I calculated the economic cost of getting a new phone versus the emotional cost of sticking my hand in steamy Georgia swamp water, and did what I thought proper: I flushed. Bye bye, cell phone.