It Tastes Like Crap…Literally

June 12, 2015 by jesseherrin 2 Comments

I apologize to all of my fans and sponsors including: Cascade Dishwasher Detergent, Wrangler Jeans Co, Hostess, and of course Pee Cola (bottled in Ghana) for the delay of my blog posts.  I regretfully state that it has been since November 8th of last year that I published my previous blog post.  Because of this, I owe it to the fans and friends; I am apprehensively going to share a deep dark secret of mine that I’ve kept since my years of high school.

I was young, delirious and lacked an Eagle Scout status.  At the time, I felt I already hadenough on my plate; I was on the high school basketball team, a full-time student, and had a reputation to uphold within my group of friends.  Nevertheless, my dad made me get a job…some nerve, right?  I ended up getting my first job at what they call “The Big K”, known as Kmart to most Westerners.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but this was one of my dad’s revenges that he played on me in disguise.

Image Source

My responsibilities while working there were to cover the check stands and also provide customer service on the floor.  On average, I worked a 6 hour day from 4-10pm.  Within that time frame, it was reasonable to say that I hit the restroom about 2-3 times a day.  If I drank a slurpee before work, I would most likely stand and urinate.  Alternatively, if I had two frozen burritos with melted cheese and sour cream, I would discharge it hours later.  And that’s where this story takes a turn.

I’m just going to be blunt; there’s really no way to church it up.  We all have to take dumps.  If you are a girl reading this…puh-lease.  You take poops, too!!  For the sake of reading this, you need to please use your imagination and picture me taking a crap.  It’s not like I’m all proud to share this experience with anybody, but I’m doing it in the hopes of receiving forgiveness for being lazy and not writing for a long time.  I thought this would be like the Big Bang and have a “Big Bang”, minus the argument of disproving the existence of God.  When I take poops, I don’t waste time.  I’ve never understood why people spend half of the day reading material or doing other various things while on the toilet.  Seriously, unless you have hemorrhoids, it doesn’t take a century to release your waste; you poop, wipe, and go on with your day.

Image Source

Now onto the wiping stage.  When I wipe, I like to go with the “two pull, wrap around, and rip” method.  In other words, pull the roll twice, wrap it, and then rip it off the roll; that usually always gives you a substantial amount of toilet paper to wipe with.  To be precise, 3-4 times usually does the trick.  (I’ve found that if you use less than three, you may or may not find discoloring in your underwear.)  As I was using the go-to formula in the Kmart lavatory, I pulled, wrapped, ripped, and then wiped.  What happened next may be not suitable for young audiences. As I wiped, one of my fingers tore through the toilet paper and into my crack.  Keep in mind, this was on the first wipe, so it was still wet and fresh.  Needless to say, my finger was covered in feces and there was nothing I could do.  My respect for the Kmart company instantly dissipated for stiffing out its employees and customers by buying the cheapest toilet paper on the market.  Honestly, it was thinner and more fragile than a piece of glass.  To get a good wipe, you needed to use at least half of the roll of toilet paper for it not to rip through.  I’m still on the verge of filing a lawsuit and taking this into court; I just haven’t gotten around to it for the past 4-5 years.

As the title states, “It Tastes Like Crap…Literally”, well, this is where the story takes another apex.  I regretfully admit that I am associated with the 10 out of 18 population of people that develop a nail biting habit.  You can probably guess where this is going now…  I can promise you I washed my hands numerous times that day, but I guess I didn’t realize that the feces got deep inside one of my nails.  After months and months of growing longer and longer, it became conceivable that it would one day reach a point where I could clean it out fully.  That day came when I least expected it; the memory is still etched inside the right side of my brain (since I am a right side thinker).  I was watching Seinfeld in my basement and I unknowingly was biting my index finger’s nail.  The taste, I cannot describe.  Was it nasty?  Yes.  Did it make me puke?  Just about.  Was there anything nutritious about it?  Far from.  And finally, would I do it again? Absolutely not.

So the next time you say, “It tastes like crap”, please use it wisely.  There may be people around you, like me, that has actually tasted real crap.  And honestly, it’s a bit offensive using it otherwise.  We often overuse terms too much as Americans.  That is crap… figuratively.