We all do it, and no matter who you are, it all comes out the same. Poop is poop, and no one's poop is better than or more worthy than any other's poop. However, I will admit that there are varying degrees of potency. Anyway, there I was in beautiful Ouray after a wonderful breakfast, great coffee and then it hit. The morning power dump was upon me. I was way too far from the Hotel, and was shopping in a little backpacking store with my little wifey. We had already picked out some items to buy so it wasn't like we had gone into this place just to funk it up with my morning essence. As I walked up to ask the "question" that was evident on my face, I noticed that there was the explicatory "out of order" sign on the restroom to keep people who can read from asking to use their, oh so precious, facility. I knew the answer before I asked it. I asked anyway, "May I please use your restroom?" Now, I knew she (the storekeeper/shitter security) was lying when she gave me the answer, because she looked me up and down before she answered. Shitter bitch says, "There is one across the street by the Jeep tour place." I had only wished that I had explosive farts or something right when she said that, but I didn't.
This was when I started to imagine how these people must view themselves. We should be so lucky to live in a society where you are not put to death for asking to used their repositories of royal waste. Or perhaps just passing through the door to the immaculate chamber of crapdom would be so powerful and experience we would just pass out or die.
BTW, I devastated that crapper across the street.
