Every time I am anywhere there are a number of birds in clusters of flocks or groups if we cannot call such a small numerical congregation of any like birds a flock, I cannot help but imagine what I would do near any of these birds if I were destitute and living on the street, whereby I would certainly have to at times take a shit somewhere outside; and when I was somewhere in Staten Island where there were geese, swans and ducks around some pond, I think not a lake, I re-imagined this having to take a shit outdoors behind some tree, but the question still remained as it continues to remain every time I think of this predicament, How do I wipe my ass?
Of course, the presence of these birds as each time I see birds together such as geese, swans, ducks, I cannot help but notice the shape and the texture of their necks, and just how these necks might fit between the cheeks of my ass so as to relieve myself of the unclean feel I would have from having taken a shit without the proximity of my hand to a roll of toilet paper. Which neck would be best I would have to consider, and I would of course have to do so comparatively, that is, I would have to use each one of the different size and length and textured necks of the different fowl that was present for my trials.
How, though, to get a bird, let’s say, like a swan, to comply with me wanting to run the length of its neck between the cheeks of my ass, would be a problem. I would, of course, have to devise a way I could render the bird either unconscious or–there is no or. I would not have access to any tranquilizing agents, so I would have to render one–no, several–of these birds unconscious. That said, would I use a rock or a stick–I think I could judge the blunt force of swinging a stick better than I could throwing a rock, so I would then use a stick to bludgeon one of the birds–one at a time, always–and adequately to render unconscious but not dead.
I cannot exactly imagine just how this would go, and I do not have anything in my experience to help me in this what if. I do though have a second hand experience to help me, an account relayed by one called Gargantua, the son, if you will, the child of the brain of one Francois Rabelais . . . there is no arse-wiper like a well-downed goose, if you hold her neck between your legs. I understood that Gargantua had tried all manner and matter of arse-wipers, andf I have no intention of inumerating them, listing them, as it seems the cause of some sixteenth century writers to list and list and list . . . I do have to note here that Homer himself had listed quite extensively, and that this is not an indulgence but a homage on the part of Monsieur Rabelais, who of course, in the manner of the episodic epics of antiquity had created an epic of gargantuan proportions, if you permit me the pun, a comic epic in praise of Folly Herself. But of course you will, if you use the neck of a well-downed goose, get a miraculous sensation in your arse-hole, both from the softness of the down and from the temperate heat of the goose herself, as young Gargantua relayed to his father Grandgousier. This, of course, would send great shivers of gladness–is it gladness or is it joy or is it a more immediate and visceral feeling of the ejaculatory nature, although I am not specifically referencing the ejaculation of semen as the result of male orgasm–whatever it is you feel, you will feel it, as did Gargantua, easily communicated to the bum-gut and the rest of the intestines, from which it reaches the heart and brain.
This is why most Italians have bidets. The feeling found in an emptying that is greatly freeing is multiplied by the feeling one gets afterward by a good and complete cleaning of one’s ass. But for this reason, at home, my ritual method is definitely Shit, Shower, Shave, in that order always.
Who takes a shower and then shits and then leaves the house–wouldn’t you have to jump back in the shower to clean your ass before you left? I’m not saying that’s what you do before you meet your brother at the hospital he has just been brought in after an auto accident, but mostly, on an everyday basis. Just stop staying up so late for no reason and you can get up and give yourself plenty of time to Shit, Shower and Shave.
The Falling Leaf Review 