Poop Master

I have a friend who has a greater phobia of public restrooms than I do. If I have a turtle head trying to poke its head out of my butt, I’ll run to the nearest restroom to set it free. My friend will hold it in until he can make it home, even if the commute is 45 minutes. He was out at a cafe somewhere in downtown San Francisco, and his turtle head was fighting its way out. He contemplated using the cafe’s bathroom, but he chickened out at the last second and ran outside to hail a cab. $20 just to take a dump at home? He sensed up and nixed that plan. I thought he’d go back into the cafe to use their toilet, but nope, he ran to the metro bus stop. I think taking public transportation, especially a city bus, is as germy as using a public restroom. I would have shat myself on the 45 minute bus ride, but he said he was able to hold it in because he achieved a zen like hypnotic stasis and ohm’d all the way home. A poop zen master. Very impressive.

I will not poop myself. Ohm.

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