I’d imagine that smile every time I take a dump. That smile… on the shitter… It’d give me purpose, direction… even the motivation to try harder to push out a good log.

You said you wanted to know what I’m thinking. lets out a chuckle I’m not even 1% kidding about that. Every. Time. I’m sitting on the shitter, I’m gonna be thinking about you and your damned pretty, beautiful, sweet-as-sugar face. I’ll think of that smile every time I drop a bomb in the toilet. A smile that’s gonna make me want to push the dookie out harder. I’m gonna look at that happy expression and feel so happy myself that I’m gonna squeeze out a few extra nuggets.

Oh, you think I’m disgusting? Get this: every time I look at a tissue to wipe my ass, I’m gonna think about you touching it and touching me. I’m gonna think of you, your arms all over the toilet tissue. Your fingers. Your hands. Your skin. Touching my ass. Cleaning my ass.