"Fatiquette" Part 1: The Bathroom
In addition to my recurring famous recipe series "Maintain Your Girth," I am launching a new series expounding a set of guidelines for proper Fat behavior. I call this "Fatiquette".
Fatiquette in general deals with the logistics associated with greatness, be it special social occasions or day-to-day life, and encompasses the many nuanced physical or emotional characteristics that often appear to be common sense but may be taken for granted by lesser beings. It is a two way street, a mutual respect between he that is dominant (Fat) and he that is submissive (Not Fat). Like a finely tuned big-rig, it is a recognition of the effort, care, and maintenance required to promote the kingly lifestyle of a well oiled machine.
Proper behavior in the bathroom is no exception. For example, after a large meal and subsequent arrival home, Fat is given precedence as first in line for use of washroom facilities. This is due not only because of sheer imposition of size (as a Fat Person would bounce you off his gut like a bowling pin on a trampoline in a stampede towards the bathroom), but for other practical reasons. The amount of food a Fat Person has just consumed dwarfs the food supply of some third world countries and Mother Nature, who giveth in plenty, can quickly transform into a harsh mistress, demanding a tithe in return for blessings bestowed. This deference is a gamble however. Will Mother Nature demand a paltry offering of odorless liquid assets, or will she require something more of substance? While a tribute of hard currency leads to the inevitable stench from the bench, this far outweighs the other option of having a Fat Person explode Kevin Pollock-style across your living room walls.
In a public restroom setting, even though Fat is first into battle, it should be the last out. Many a brother-in-arms has faltered before me, leaving their duty and post as my wingman in combat. Long did I sit perched, diligently awaiting their return to no avail. As with anything else, genius cannot be rushed, and the artistic creations I am known to usher forth on the canvas called toilet deserve to be savored in time and reverent observance. "Masterpieces" that appeal to many senses: the smell (often so bad you can taste it), the sounds upon creation between creator and that which is created... Invoking the carnal desire to run away in fear after laughing hysterically at first sight. An abstract, murky shotgun blast. Nuggets of joy and wisdom dotting a watery landscape. A Loch Ness monster, or "Nessie", rising in defiance of a new modern world. Those who leave early miss out on a truly unique, one of a kind, multimedia presentation. Ergo the Fatiquette policy of first in, last out. Hey, I'm pooping in an art center-whaddya expect?!
Regarding Fatiquette, restroom selection is paramount. Common sense dictates that you seek solitude when dropping a deuce. Stage fright while standing is one thing, but it can cause serious problems while squatting. Think cement truck overloading and splitting at the seams. The hustle and bustle of large, heavily trafficked buildings needn't be tolerated and is usually quite easily avoided. During my tenure in college, the best places to pinch a loaf while reading or even occasionally napping were places typically avoided by most college students... Namely art centers, administration offices, and libraries. Within these locations seek out higher floor numbers where casual pedestrian traffic fails to reach. It only takes a few adventures to find that one gem of a place that keeps you coming back for more, often becoming a highlight of your day. Those of you who have experienced the President's Room bathroom at the Singletary Center for the Arts in Lexington, KY know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.
Now that you've selected a proper courtyard, we must select a proper throne. Say you're a skinny person, and you and a Fat friend want to hit up the local semi-abandoned center for the arts for a double shot of camaraderie. You walk in first and immediately take the empty handicapped stall at the end. Why not? It's usually clean from lack of use. It's got hand rails that make perfect elbow rests for reading. Ponder for a moment the ignorant implications of what you have just done. A Fat Person does not just sit down on a toilet, he must posture his cheeks such that they are spread akimbo enough not only to reduce the ratio of surface to mass contact as much as possible, but to promote proper blood circulation to the legs. The legs must be far enough apart to prevent cramping while attempting to wipe, but there is no such luck with a toilet paper dispenser inconveniently placed at leg level. A skinny, barren wasteland of a person wastes space when using a handicapped stall. Space that could obviously have been used by the now sweaty, heavy breathing elephant being forced to poop sideways one stall over from you. Remember this picture as his Fat legs maneuver into a desperate figure four posture, with one inevitably spazming straight out and under the stall divider in an invasion of your own space. If you are flying solo, the rules of common sense still apply when trying to locate a vacant restroom and subsequent handicapped stall. Go upwards! Logic dictates that wheelchairs don't mix well with stairs, so head to the 5th floor. If two Fat People walk in to a public bathroom at the same time, the simple rules of calling "shotgun" apply.
It is my royal decree that if you can stankify a bathroom, personal or public, to the point where every person in a 20 foot radius is immediately turned about and driven from the scene in revulsion, then not only do you have talent but you have earned the right to claim said bathroom as your Fat Domain. Let those brave enough to enter revel and wallow silently in the wafting aroma of your inner greatness that is now being passed into the outer sanctum of porcelain shrinery and beyond- to the foyer of whatever theater, school, or church function you are attending.
Throughout the course of the day, many Fat activities can promote a condition called mud butt. Events like eating, turning your head to one direction, heavy breathing, walking too far without adequate rest... They all lead to the accumulation of sweat in the trousers. Sweat alone is usually not enough to set off noticeable irritation, but when it mixes with the remnants of an army better left dead and buried, disaster is prone to strike.
Case in point. A close friend of mine in college was infamous for constantly scratching his itchy butt. He never understood what was wrong and one day sought my advice on the matter. We often shared the Singletary experience together and I knew immediately that the problem was a deficient wiping technique. I asked if he checked his wipes regularly to ensure a clean and prosperous playground, and his reply was "No, not really, I just wipe a couple times and go." Bingo. I told him to issue a "courtesy wipe" after every visit. Even when you think you are completely clean and dry, even after you KNOW you are clean and dry by physical observation, you issue one last and final "courtesy wipe" as psychological assurance that mud butt has been avoided. A week later this friend told me I was dead on target in addressing his problem. Courtesy wipe policy initiated, goodbye itchy crack.
There is a bathroom technique used among certain sects of Fatness called "manpon". In an attempt to prevent squirtage, staining or otherwise uncontrollable leaks, sheets of toilet paper are neatly folded and placed between the buttocks immediately prior to leaving. To my knowledge this technique is more tradition rather than actual effectiveness, and should be approached with informed caution. Keep in mind that public restroom toilet paper, 99% of the time, is not two-ply soft. In terms of absorbency, pliability, and comfort, using this sub-standard wiping material is no different than shoving a graduate term paper between your cheeks. Thus, I declare the use of a manpon is reserved for extreme Fatiquette emergencies only. Don't generate one of these and then try to run a jungle marathon with a horde of midget Amazon women chasing after you. You'll still have mud butt within 5 minutes, and most likely bleed out from paper cuts before reaching the edge of the village. As usual, only practice within the walls of your own sanctum can reveal what materials and techniques work best for you. Just don't forget what you've put where in the comfort of your own home.
So let us recap official Bathroom Fatiquette, shall we?
1. First in by necessity or out of reverence, last out by choice.
2. Shot selection improves your game.
3. Always park handicapped.
4. You stank it, you own it.
5. Courtesy wipe.
6. Manpon in emergencies only.
Next up is another recipe to bulk up the heathen over the summer. 'Til then...
*UPDATE!
For those of you wondering, my dumps look something like this (Notice the handicapped rails):

3 Comments:
I think I'll commit suicide now.
When she voiced no objection, he ate pussy and sent histongue way inside where he scoured the walls and gorged himself onadulterous fuck. He was shocked.
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When she voiced no objection, he ate pussy and sent histongue way inside where he scoured the walls and gorged himself onadulterous fuck. He was shocked.
Bessie. I also believed that as Clifford grew, hedlearn to prefer solid food.
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Bessie. I also believed that as Clifford grew, hedlearn to prefer solid food.
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