I used to think that the best part about coming home after being out of town would be to sleep in your own bed, but I realized the best part is actually being able to shit in your own bathroom on your own toilet. You know how it gets when you really have to pee and you’re holding it in til you get home? As you get closer to home, peeing becomes more and more urgent until finally when you’re mere steps away from the bathroom it feels like the pipes are about to burst. Well, something similar happens to me during weekend getaways.
I’m not sure why, but it’s like my bowel movement completely shuts off when I’m away from home. This past weekend I went to Boston and not once did I do my thing on the throne. Instead my body tucks it away inside me somewhere and what results from this is me producing some of the foulest, most noxious flatulence you have ever smelled in your life.
Anyway, so on the way back it’s like my body knew it was approaching home. As I got closer and closer, all the great stuff I had this weekend started throwing a party in my stomach. Odd how Mt. Shitmore was dormant all weekend long and decided to erupt once I came back to NYC.
