I had the opportunity to travel independently in India and Nepal four times, and the one thing that really stuck in my mind's eye was the sight of women in rural India washing the family dishes and laundry in the village pond, while 15 feet away a man took an enormous dump into it.

Not just providing toilets or chemical-latrine outhouses, but also HYGIENE EDUCATION is where a chunk of our billions of dollars in overseas aid should be going.

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PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

I think that maybe God was punishing PP for putting "treif" (pork) on the sacred bread of his kosher Chosen People (bagel). heh heh.

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PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

As Freud said, sometimes a toilet is just a toilet. Er, or was that "a cigar is just an exploding cigar"?

No matter. When my present job started deteriorating - the work environment started sucking, I got a devious bitch-from-hell boss and the whole @#$% company lost its moral compass and mission, I started having dreams about shit. Not just taking a shit, or seeing shit, but literally being swamped with shit.

The dreams would always be in a...well.. dreamlike setting. No recognizable place, but a vague sense of being in an office, industrial or work environment. Invariably in the scenario, I would need to go to the bathroom. Badly. Entering the institutional looking restroom, I'd find the toilets in each stall to be filled to the brim. But I had to go, so I'd crap in them. Only to have my addition be the "last log that broke the camel's commode." The crapper would runneth over, soaking my feet in excrement and poopy/pissy toilet water.

It would flow and swell, creating a shit river that would pour across the bathroom floor. No matter what I did, I could not escape being soiled by the shit.

As other Poop Reporters have commented, dreams like this often are rather mundane subliminal messages from our bladders or bowels trying to tell us to wake up and go to the toilet. But when I would wake up from these dreams, there was no urgent need to empty myself, nor were my sheets soiled. So, I set about anaylizing the potential meaning.

I'm pretty sure that I'm telling myself that I have taken enough shit at work, and that if I stay I'll be "soiled" more and more - emotionally and in my psyche. Shit makes a swell metaphor for the garbage we have to face in life. When my dreams turn to shit - and that shit is swallowing me up in the workplace - it means it's time to wipe, get off the pot and flush.

I have a job interview for a complete career change next week.

PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

I can only dream of having a poop life as exciting as The Dumpster's. Sigh. Good to see this get a front page spot.

PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

Pinworm,
Well noted. It brings to mind the episode of "Married...With Children," in which Peg Bundy wins a month of home training with a television celebrity exercise guru. Instead of whupping her into shape, the trainer (Jack Jupitor) ends up succumbing to the Peg Bundy way of life, reposing on the sofa with a box of bonbons to watch the soaps. He ends up enormously obese and dies of a heart attack during his live tv fitness show.

Yet, Peg Bundy continues to thrive with her knock-out figure, not gaining an ounce.

The punchline? Al comments, as he and the family watch Jupitor's demise on television, that the Bundys - like all other people on their lowly position in society - are like cockroaches. They can eat crap and flourish, while more rarified, high-falootin' people like Jack Jupitor are poisoned by the foodstuffs that Bundy-types thrive on.

Is AsDonk a Bundy or a Jupitor? Is his diet - to his body - akin to the nector of the gods, or toxic waste? We won't know for a few years and more meals like the one he recounted here. Stay tuned.

PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

By "big enough sample," do you mean the number of responses to your survey, or the size of the load in one's pants?

PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"