poop

Though you might find it a rather surprising fact about a SHAMELESS OLD TART like myself, there are, in fact, only two places on the planet where I can comfortably poop away from home:

1) At my writing partner, Doug’s, house — but ONLY in the upstairs, climb-to-the-rafters, upper-most-reaches, shithouse-of-the-hinterlands that belongs to his 5 year old son, Enzo (aka, THE JACKAL.) According to his honest father, the inhuman atrocities that occur in this bathroom on a regular basis could NEVER be equaled by my diminutive, vegetarian self. This notion gives me the confidence to carry on. And, I DO.

And though I realize this is going to sound like pure horseshit, it is, I assure you, NOT.

2) The restroom just to the right of the entrance to Tomorrowland at The Magic Fucking Kingdom. It has all the hallmarks of a perfect place to LET LOOSE LUNCH: LOUD music (“Whistle While You Work” is a PERFECT sound-proofing anthem to makin’ a cawcuh), as well as A QUICK, HIGH TURNOVER RATE, i.e., people and their sniveling, sticky children are in and out SO FAST that by the time you are done leisurely checking Facebook on your phone, playing a round of Words With Friends, digging out the zip-lock bag of baby wipes from the bottom of your purse, and — OH, YEAH — TAKING A FUCKING DUMP…there is not a soul left in the place who actually watched you enter, made careful note of your shoes, and can therefore JUDGE. It really is perfect. A safe-house of sorts for those who prefer doin’ their DOODY DUTY locked in the sweet metal solitude of an Iron Maiden on a Desert Island. Like me.

Poop in a bathroom in the place where you work?

NEVER.

one-does-not-simply-shit-at-work

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About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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