I was telling my good ol’ friend Robb the other day that I was working on a sketch about my bowel movements, which lead to the comment “when am I not talking about my bowel movements.” The answer is simple: never. The thing is on the surface it may seem like its all about my excrement. All about my poop. How much. How often. If its normal. And it never is. But if you think its only about my fecal matter, that’s merely because you aren’t looking deep enough. My tales of deuces dropped past are allegories for many things, such as the life and death of the Samurai warrior class in pre-industrial Japan and the Ottoman Empire’s role in the shaping of feminism in modern Turkey. Therefore, next time I ask you “how often does the normal person defecate” think long and hard. What am I really asking? Really.
The sketch below came from a conversation several weeks ago when I was pretty certain I was not in the realm of regular. I decided to sketch what it would look like if I entered a contest for bowel movement regularity. The flannel-clad lady on the right climbing a pile of feces is me. Smiles.
Enjoy!
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