I have a love/hate relationship with automatic flushing toilets. They’re fantastic because of the obvious– no physical contact with the toilet flusher. In a perfect world I go in the stall, do my business, and as I’m pulling up my pants the evidence that I was there immediately vanishes into
peepee dance
Poopoo dance
I hate doing the poopoo dance. It’s very much like the peepee dance, except instead of holding in an exploding bladder, I’m holding in an exploding anus. An exploding anus of exploding diarrhea. I was at the convenience store taking my time looking at snacks. Then all of a sudden,
