As in most subjects, it is usually good to have a female perspective on things. I can't say that this applies to everything, but I think that it definitely applies in the world of pooping. As I was sittin' cozy on the work can today, I thought briefly about the fact that I am indeed one of the fastest shidooby takers in the store. Most people don't even know that I've been up to frosting the bowl unless they enter the b-room after I've left and get a whiff of my work. Some people have actually asked me how I manage to dump the cargo so quick...all I can say is that I know my business and what to do with it.
So why is it that men and women vary so greatly on their doo-duty time frame? The only thing I could come up with in my head is that women, tho they may appreciate the art of defecation, we tend not to revel in the moment as much as men. I think men see it as a time to get away from everything, read an article in the newspaper and relax. It is essentially a zen man-with-himself moment where he isn't getting yelled at, having to lift something heavy or open a really stubborn jar. Why someone would want to spend such a spell breathing in their own oily shit fumes is beyond me...even if it IS indeed the respite that he seeks. Women, on the other hand, I think see it as a brief brown speed-bump in the day...something that just needs to be knocked out (or ejected, rather) and then we can move along.
What I think is absolutely great, though, is that men and women both share a great sense of accomplishment at the end of a great deuce.
Just a thought.
Kerri
So why is it that men and women vary so greatly on their doo-duty time frame? The only thing I could come up with in my head is that women, tho they may appreciate the art of defecation, we tend not to revel in the moment as much as men. I think men see it as a time to get away from everything, read an article in the newspaper and relax. It is essentially a zen man-with-himself moment where he isn't getting yelled at, having to lift something heavy or open a really stubborn jar. Why someone would want to spend such a spell breathing in their own oily shit fumes is beyond me...even if it IS indeed the respite that he seeks. Women, on the other hand, I think see it as a brief brown speed-bump in the day...something that just needs to be knocked out (or ejected, rather) and then we can move along.
What I think is absolutely great, though, is that men and women both share a great sense of accomplishment at the end of a great deuce.
Just a thought.
Kerri
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