The Day I Pooped at the Float Spa

The Trash Can Dump Story:

I had recently moved into an amazing house where I had two hot male roommates. A couple of weeks after I moved in I went out on a Saturday night, drank way too much, ate crap fast food, and woke up at 6 0’clock Sunday morning almost pooping the bed. I ran to the bathroom and one of the hot roommates had the whole bathroom torn up and was retiling the shower. Fuckcrapmotherfuck. Obviously he would’ve happily vacated for me to poop, but there was just no way I could do that. Because I knew it was going to be a dagnasty poop and it’s not like the smell would instantly dissipate. And then the hot guy would know I pooped. So just, no. I went back to my room and came to the only logical conclusion: poop in my tiny trash can and go back to sleep. I woke up a few hours later and now had to dispose of this mess. I bagged it up, made a run out the front door to my car, tore up to Safeway and chucked it in the big dumpster out back.


The Cascading Shit Story

This story starts with me on my back with my legs over my head so that my ass was hanging over the edge of the arm of the couch. My hot boyfriend and I began having some righteous ass sex. At one point he pulled his penis out to change positions and a stream of poo started cascading out of my ass and down the side of the couch into a puddle on the beige carpet.

I did not know this was happening. I had my legs over my head and was staring at the ceiling waiting for instruction. I didn’t know what was going on.

Finally he said, “Get up and go STRAIT to the bathroom and take a shower.”

Ok. I didn’t ask questions. I just went. I wasn’t too messy personally, there was a tiny bit of poo on me, but for the most part it had just shot strait down the couch. I walked back out to see my boyfriend scrubbing the poop pile out of the carpet.

I sort of timidly asked, “What now?” He said, “You’ve got two other working holes – where do you want it?”

Afterwards I asked him how he kept going and how the poop didn’t bother him. He said, “When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned now and then. You just clean up and fuck on.”


I Pooped Myself at my Own Party

It’was the eve of my 22nd birthday… was a dark and drunken night…….Do you guys remember Graham’s Central Station? Well, that’s where I wanted to go and I gathered a group of friends to go with me. They had one hour where all drinks were 25 cents. This didn’t turn out well for me. I had $2.25 worth of drinks in that one hour. I was dancing. I cleared myself an area on the dance floor because I was hitting people while I was pretending to swim. I got up in a cage and was squatting down fast and then popping back up fast, each time my skirt flying up and displaying my underwear. Eventually we were asked to leave because of me. I didn’t know that at the time because I was too out of it. I was just taken by the hand and told that the party was moving back to my house. Once I was back home I was placed on the couch and started drooling on myself. I ran to the bathroom and immediately was fucked because I had to poop and vomit and wasn’t sure which end to put on the toilet.

Meanwhile, all of my friends are sitting right outside of that tiny downstairs half bathroom on my living room couches politely chatting.

I put my ass end on the toilet and immediately started shitting whilst also vomiting into a trash can in between my legs. I reached behind me to flush to try to get rid of the vomit stink and I kept flushing and flushing, commenting that the water and the breeze felt so good on my vagina, but also very confused that my vomit never went away (not realizing I had been vomiting into a trash can and not into the toilet).

I started whining for my then-husband to “make it stoooooopppppppp! pleeeeease, make it stop!” He was fielding my requests while also trying to be a polite host.

Eventually everyone left seeing that the situation was clearly continuing south. I tried to crawl out of the bathroom and ended up passed out face down half way in the bathroom and half way out with my skirt flipped up and sprinkles of diarrhea all over my butt cheeks. My darling husband wiped my ass, threw my skirt in the trash and helped me upstairs to bed.

I woke up the next morning still drunk and used this as a shining example to teach my teenage sister not to ever drink. I fished my skirt out of the trash, washed it, and tried to regain my dignity.


The Day I Pooped at the Float Spa

In case you’ve never been, a float spa is comprised of a few individual rooms each containing a pod filled with salt water, and a shower stall. I entered the pod for my float and when my 60 minutes were up I crawled out of the pod, stood up, and immediately felt my poop trying to pop out. I knew I couldn’t make it down the hall to the bathroom because every time I moved an inch the poop moved closer to being outside of my body. There was a tiny trash can with a plastic liner in it so I squatted on the floor and pooped in the bag. I showered and then part way through my shower had the insane urge to shit again. I had tied a knot in the plastic bag because the smell was so intense so I had to open it back up, face the stink, and add more poop to the bag. Poop smells really gross out in the open air versus sitting in toilet water. Besides my clothes, all I had with me was a tiny towel and the bag of poop was see through and totally disgusting. Somehow I mostly hid the bag of poop with the towel and ran to the bathroom hoping not to run into anyone on the way. I chucked the poo bag in the big trash can in there and got the hell out.





11 Things You Maybe Didn’t Know About Me

1. After I poop, I wipe a couple of times, and then on the last pass I spit on the toilet paper and press the paper against my bee hole predominantly with my middle finger, so that my middle finger sort of dips into my bee hole and gets the last little bit of anything……wait. Doesn’t everyone do this?

2. One of my biggest pet peeves are processed vegan/vegetarian food products – they’re just water & gross oils + a bunch of artificial thickeners and stabilizers. Or toxic soy mush fake meat crap. This is worse to me than regular processed foods, because vegan/vegetarian processed food is marketed as the healthiest shit ever. And it’s so not. Just eat real food. Most vegan diets are way worse than mine, and I eat everything, just in whole form (raw milk, meat, nuts, produce, etc.)
3. Sometimes I spend large amounts of time photographing placentas, both in their raw state, and after I’ve made them into capsules. With the finished products in particular – capsules, cord, amnion, etc. – I will stage them with back drops & proper lighting and I’ll arrange them in all kinds of different set ups sometimes taking 100+ photos at a time.
4. I am very sensitive to my environment – improper lighting, unpleasant scents and smells, sounds, bad music or T.V., clutter, etc.
5. I clean when I am stressed and it always makes me feel better. Cleaning is a guarantee that I can accomplish something and have a physical result.
6. I am really, really good at being alone. I treasure any alone time that I get. I could spend a week home alone, not see a soul, never leave the house and it would be the best thing ever.
7. I hate anything that involves going uphill. Even if it’s as simple as being on my bike on a road with the slightest of inclines. I hate stairs. I hate hiking. It all sucks to me.
8. I LOVE buffets. The Whole Foods salad bar is my favorite. Or the buffet at the Wynn in Vegas.
9. If I have to buy a plane ticket to travel somewhere, I can’t fathom being away for less than two weeks. If I’m crossing an ocean, then at least three or four.
10. I first met my boyfriend when I was 13 and he was 22. We didn’t get together until I was 25 and he was 34.
11. Just about every night I’ll rub my finger on my vagina because I love how it smells. I always always try to get my boyfriend to smell it too, but he won’t. He likes smelling it in a sexual context, but not in general. I love smelling it all the goddamn time.

Brilliant Ass Washing Machine

Day 19 Thursday, September 26 Tuscany & Vernazza

This morning Kris said, “It sucks I’m on a night time poop schedule.” I said, “I’m mostly in the morning, but later morning, so kinda back to normal. But it’s no poop alarm clock, that’s for sure.”

Alexandra drove us to catch our bus to Grosetto. We had a very sweet goodbye.

We stumbled into a fucking fantastic place in Grosetto where we had two perfect lattes, two croissants and two sandwiches – one was a croissant with salami and cheese, the other was focaccia bread with cream cheese, arugala and prosciutto. Both were fucking to die for. We hit the grocery store for train snacks and then set off for Vernazza. These were taken from the train:



After a two hour ride we got off and were in the fucking land of retard tourists. It was literally an elbow to elbow sea of retards getting off the train. For a second I was like….ohmygod – am I in Honolulu again? Is this going to be so not worth it?

But, thank fuck, it totally was. Vernazza’s amazingness way makes up for the load of idiots that are constantly roaming the streets.

Our hotel was super adorable – the Pensione Sorriso. Bed was super comfy and the shared bathroom was totally cute and clean and we never had to wait. Plus, we had a sink in our room so we both mostly peed in the sink, reserving the community bathroom for pooping and showers.

View from our room, and a little outdoor shower on the deck:



We immediately set out for gelato, which was easy to find as there is basically only one street to the town. There were 3 gelato spots in town and we tried them all that afternoon and then just lounged by the water.


We hiked up the hill and had dinner on a cliff side over looking the water. Our waiter was so fucking hot. He put his hand on my shoulder. My left shoulder. He squeezed it.


Kris pooped after we got home and I asked him, “Did you wash your ass in that awesome bidet?” Kris: Well of course I did! Why would I waste an opportunity with a brilliant ass washing machine?

The rectum is the butt hole. The anus is the cavity just beyond.

Days 15-18 Sunday-Wednesday September 22-25 Tuscany

Sunday was a total leisure day. We had the farm totally to ourselves the whole day so it was a mix of eating, yoga on the deck, napping, reading and lounging.

At one point we were cuddling and I said, “Oh! You’re pressing on my poop bag….er….my….large intestine…..wherever my poop’s waitin.” Kris said, “Your rectum.” I pooped and then several minutes later he said, “I meant your anus.” and I said, “Isn’t that the same thing?” and he said, “The rectum is the butt hole. The anus is the cavity just beyond.”

In the evening everyone came back and we had dinner together – Paolo, Alexandra and the Russians – Olga, and her grown son, Richard. Olga and Richard were hilarious going back and forth like an old married couple, and Olga has the most fantastic accent. She speaks fluent English, but with a classic thick Russian accent.

There we all were – two Americans, a Romanian, an Italian and two Russians. I wish for all of my friends to travel (outside of the U.S.A.) There is nothing in the world that can compare the experiences you will have.

Monday was our first official work day. We were up early and were put out in the olive grove to trim the trees in preparation for the harvest next month. That was a bitch. I said, “Didn’t the dove bring an oilve branch back to noah’s arc and that’s how they knew shit was cool? Like, the bird had obviously found dry land or something?”

4 and a half hours of trimming kicked our fucking asses. We ate lunch and then passed out, resurfacing to watch the sunset with the geese and eat dinner. At dinner – I saw a cat pee. We saw this stream coming from way up high in a tree and we followed it and it lead us right to a cat’s ass. Hilarious.

Tuesday we totally lucked out. We finished with the trees in an hour or so, and then we had just had to fill buckets with water and carry them to the cherry trees. We were done by 11 and that was our day. Alexandra made a fantastic bean soup for lunch and then we had a really fun siesta. We both had head colds, but also had the giggles. So it made for a really hilarious couple of hours in our room.

Alexandra told us some great stories about strange guests that have stayed here. She said one fancy looking couple complained about “the sheet (shit) of the geese” and another woman was screaming in her room – Alexandra heard her all the way in the main house. She went to see what was wrong and “the woman had her feet on the bed and was screaming. Her husband has a broom and is trying to smash a lizard.” Later on Alexandra told us “If you ever come back to Italy – you stay with me in the house of Guiliano (her boyfriend)” She is so sweet.

I wondered out loud – “I can’t remember if I pooped out my garlic….”

That night for dinner Paolo bought two whole fresh fish and a load of fresh mussels. We had the sea food, along with boiled potatoes doused with olive oil and parsley, and cabbage salad.

Wednesday we lucked out even harder. We got up early, prepared to work, and then the phone rang. It was Paolo. He had missed his train so Alexandra was driving him to Rome (3 hours away). He just asked us to feed and keep an eye on the puppies. So we had another totally leisurely day to ourselves.

Kris was posting something on Facebook about how stupid hash tagging is and I said, “You should post that with an ironic hash tag.” He looked me square in the face, dead serious and said, “I’m never gonna hash tag.”








I told him how I greased up yer butthole

So, even though in my last fucking blog post I was all like, “OMG it’s been so long since I’ve posted – I’m going to post way more often….” Here I am, two goddamn months later, having not said a word since my last post.

I could write a novel about the last two months because they have been packed with awesomeness, however – I’ll just stick to the highlights:

  • Catering the Willo Historic District Home Tour Volunteer Appreciation Dinner with Denise. A lovely, upper-middle-class gay man (which I aspire to be. Minus the gay part. And the man part) hosted it at his ridiculously decked out pad. Gotta love those homosexual professionals with all of that disposable income. I ended up getting pretty mother truckin tipsy and got lots of complements on my classy white lacy apron.
  • I met with a lovely woman whose placenta I prepared some months ago. We have kept in touch and I have randomly baby sat for her. She took me to coffee and asked if I would be interested in going to Kauai with her to help with her baby. Um, yes please. She is awesome, so is her husband, and her baby is goddamn adorable. I will have my own room in a sweet two bedroom condo they have rented, all expenses will be covered, and I am genuinely looking forward to spending time with them. And – my boyfriend will be meeting me out there once the family goes home so that we can have a little Hawaiian vacation of our own.
  • Kris and I bartered with a supremely talented photographer. We spent a few horus cleaning her house and she spend an afternoon photographing us in downtown Phoenix. She took some totally amazing photos that blew our minds. In case you’ve been under a rock and haven’t seen them – here they are: PHOTOS
  • The 1 year anniversary Pap Party – if you haven’t been to one yet – you need to fucking go! Typically, my vagina goes on stage around 8:30. No, seriously. It’s a wonderful night of wine and food and conversation, and they always do a “Public Cervix Announcement” where a pelvic exam is done publicly – all the lady parts are pointed out, and you are talked through the exam step by step.
  • Kris’ friend Jamie’s surprise party. It was a Pretty in Pink themed party. To gear up for it we watched Pretty in Pink for the first time. It was basically the worst movie ever. But I’m sure if I had seen it when I was younger it would’ve been the bees knees. But seeing it for the first time as an adult was boring as hell.
  • ASH. Oh my god, Ash. This adorable British boy who stayed with us. He arrived in the middle of the night, so we didn’t actually meet him until the morning. We walked out bleary eyed having just woken up, and it was like coming out to see an old friend sleepign on our futon. Within 30 minutes we knew all about his penis and his sexual adventures since being in America. It was awesome. We ended up spending most of the time he was here together – showing him around, eating, hanging out. Turns out he works for a chef, oh – uh, maybe you know him – Jamie Oliver! And Jamie Oliver is friends with Chris Bianco, who owns an extremely famous and impossible to get into pizzeria here in Phoenix. Jamie Oliver gave Ash Chris Bianco’s cell phone number, Ash called him and the next night the 5 of us (Ash, Kris, me, Tony & Sarah) were in. We arrived and were whisked next door to Bar Bianco and given generous pours of wine on the house. Then we were whisked back next door to a table set and waiting for us. And the pizza – fuuuuuuck. I don’t even know what to say. It was just fucking mouthwatering.
  • I have started going to an awesome women’s group every Tuesday night. If you’re in the Phoenix area – you should join me some evening. It is seriously fun. And it’s not your typical group of fat tubby complainers bitching about their lame kids and husbands.
  • We’ve tried a few new restaurants around town – Arrogant Butcher (delicious, but overpriced and way mainstream), Scratch (a French Cafe with a lovely patio and atmosphere, but fucking comicly bad service and sub par food), BLT Steak on Camelback Mountain (amazing patio and fantastic happy hour), and The Breakfast Club – by far our favorite spot – excellent service, great food, well priced, and a great patio.
  • All the free outdoor yoga! I love spring time in Phoenix. It seems every weekend there is a free class in the park, or on the lawn at some swanky resort.
  • I went to my first networking group. It was good because it was a group specifically for businesses that target pregnant women and young families. I’m not sure if I’ll go back, but it was definitely worth going to that one time.
  • Arcosanti! I went for the first time with my lovely friend, Leita. She is getting married there next month and is getting Kris and I a room there, and paying me to be her bitch the day of the wedding.
  • Tea time with my new friend, Jodi. She made some delightful chai tea from scratch – heavenly!
  • A walk on a lovely day with Carly. She has a facebook crush on me, which I think is the coolest thing ever. She cracks me up on facebook, and is even funnier in person – I love that. Most people aren’t at all like who they seem to be on facebook.
  • The Mercy Gilbert Luncheon. Mercy Gilbert hospital in the east valley does a quarterly luncheon for doulas, home birth midwives, hospital midwives, and L&D nurses so that everyone can get together and bridge the gap between home and hospital care – because a lot of times there has to be both. Selena Nelson, a wonderful home birth midwife, gave a very informative presentation on home birth midwives obtain their license. Belinda Hodder gave a heartbreaking presentation on what hospital midwives have to go thru to practice. Did you know that all midwives are required to do peer review? For home birth midwives this means that a bunch of home birth midwives get together, go over some select cases/patients/mothers, and “review” them – what they would have done, what should have been done differently, etc. Hospital midwives have to do the same thing. Except who reviews hospital midwives? Obstetricians. And the midwives don’t. get. a. say. The is unbelievable to me, and so grossly unfair on so many levels. Home birth midwives get to practice so autonomously, while hospital midwives are constantly critiqued and on ice with obstetricians. Isn’t this 2013?
  • I usually don’t do overnights with postpartum doula clients, but I was asked by a woman whose placenta I did if I wanted to do a few overnights for her. I didn’t really want to, so I geuinely sat down with myself and thought about what it was worth to me. It was ofcourse an outrageous number, but I threw it out anyway. And the woman didn’t even blink an eye at it. And it ended up being a super coosh and easy job. So awesome!
  • Kris and I started going to Golds Gym downtown. There are several guys there who are built like wild fucking animals and just running around the gym lifting weights, doing chin ups and yelling.
  • Girl’s Night at Hanny’s. A group of us got dressed up and sat at the bar. A man at the other end of the bar bought us all a round of drinks. That was so classic and flattering.

And now some classic funnies and one liners:

  • Sarah (while looking thru my wedding album):How’d you meet your husband?……Me: Well, I was blowing a guy on this park bench in new york city
  • Sarah (after hearing me express my hesitation with lesbian sex) “Yeah. I don’t wanna scissor with any newbies.”
  • Katie, to Ash: You’re sleeping on top of a shake weight. And against a poop stain. I can’t believe you haven’t moved your pillow.
  • Kris: Yeah. I’d say our lives are pretty spontaneous. I mean – we’re going to In N Out Burger at 10:30 on a Tuesday night after picking up a placenta.
  • Todd, to me: Hey – do you want my old chap stick, since you don’t give a shit about germs?
  • Kris: The other day I crawled up in that sink and used it like a bidet
  • Katie: Wait….you just plunged your hand into the toilet of piss and grabbed it? Tony: Well yeah. I mean – c’mon. I wipe my ass with rocks!
  • A guy emails me in response to our room for rent ad on Craig’s List: Is this a serious listing? I don’t see how anyone could fit your criteria or would want to have to adapt themselves to be what you want. Good luck though. My response: We’ve had an overwhelming response to our ad (as we always do) and are actually creating more space to accommodate even more awesome people. Go fuck yourself, Bob!
  • Me, to Kris: I told him how I greased up yer butthole.

Inappropriate Yoga Talk & Behavior:

  • “This is a whores pose”
  • “Can you see my tits?”
  • “I can smell your feet. And it makes me wanna vomit”
  • “Fuck yeeeaaaaahhhh.”
  • “I can feel your dick in this one.”
  • “No. Just… I’m not doing that.”
  • “Put your fucking head against mine!”
  • A butt hole was poked
  • The small boob was grabbed
  • A ballsack was damn near cupped.

The End