6:33 p.m. - 2003-11-13
Liberacion Del Senorita Diez y Tres
Once upon a time, I had a monthly feature called Women's Lib, in which I made a random, cute, cuddly, lovable, huggable, innocent, little angel of a female write about the disgustingly filthy topic of my choice.
Then women began volunteering less and less.
It became a bi-monthly feature....and then for a while seemed like it would disappear forever without a trace, never to be seen again, like new episodes of Futurama.
I need some new hype to start getting more people to visit my diary. I need to figure out a way to get my diary to pop up more frequently on internet search engines when people are surfing the internet.
PARIS HILTON SEX TAPE.
If I could figure out some common search terms to include in my diary, then maybe more people would find my diary.
PARIS HILTON SEX TAPE.
But, I can't think of anything to do. So, my diary will have to continue being unappreciated.
So, as always I urge females to volunteer to write a Women's Lib entry by sending a mandatory self photo, along with your request to be my next Women's Lib author, to [email protected].
If you're cute and cuddly, then you're eligible.
But, this month, Women's Lib is back, thanks to some broad named Arlette....Founder and CEO of arletterocks.diaryland.com
Here she is:
My Women's Lib entries have touched on almost every bodily function known to man, and so this month I have to repeat a topic. It's okay though.
It's an oldie....but a goodie: Defecation.
Here's her entry:
My topic: defecation.
I am seriously poo-shy. I'd rather grit my teeth and clench and wait than deal with the noise and flourescent lights and echoes of your average public restroom. On a bad day, when I finally get home, I'll barrel up the stairs and throw my keys onto the floor and have my pants unzipped and halfway down my ass by the time I hit the sanctuary of my quiet little bathroom. I like my privacy when I'm trying to crap, thank you.
So it won't be a surprise to find out I only ever shit outside once.
I was 12. I spent much of that summer at a summer camp in Switzerland. They dragged us all out to a nature preserve for a long hike one day, and I neglected to hit the bathrooms before we left. I had no idea that we were heading into the European wilderness where there was no running water and no Port-A-Potties and certainly, absolutely, no toilet paper.
Things weren't bad when we set out. I felt fine. It was only after a couple of hours of walking that I realized I was going to die of poo. Seriously. I was sure that shit was going to come pouring out my eye sockets if I couldn't get myself to a restroom soon. I asked a counselor about maybe finding a bathroom and he looked at me like I was a moron.
"Go in the bushes," he said.
I tried. Really, I did. I stood around behind some skinny shrubs and kicked at the leaves and ducked down to see if the bushes gave me adequate cover. Nope. There was no way in hell it was going to work. I was going to end up dying of poo or crapping my pants and dying of shame. There was no way out.
Then I looked over my shoulder at the river.
Even then, at the age of 12, I knew how horrible it was. You don't put human waste in a water supply. It is bad for the animals and bad for the people downriver. But I didn't care. I would happily poison half of Switzerland just to empty out my tortured, overstuffed bowels.
I swam several yards downstream from the other kids until I was chest-deep and shivering in the freezing water. I looked around me, made sure nobody was paying attention, yanked my bathing suit bottom sideways and furtively crapped.
Oh god, did I crap. It was miserable and rushed and humiliating. Bits of it floated and rushed past me down the river. I wanted to cry.
Once it was over I felt thirty pounds lighter and incredibly happy. I swished the bottom of my bathing suit around in the water and casually made my way back to shore. I swore I'd never, ever, EVER tell ANYONE what happened.
But now I've caved in. What can I say? I'm a sucker for Edgar's special brand of froggy charm.
Jeez Louise.....it seems like the rivers of Switzerland would be freezing cold. I always imagine it being snowy and freezing over there. With the Alps being over there and all.
I'm surprised she didn't get frostbite all over her underaged body by wading into the river.
Summer or not, it must've been frigid....Switzerland sure is north of the equator.
Brrrrr.....
Thinking about her standing chest-deep in a Swiss river, releasing her bowels into the main water supply of Switzerland, as bits of digested food and fecal matter float past her towards some beautiful, prosperous Swiss city where a water mill pumps the river water into the homes of young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed children sure has made me cold.
It's getting chilly in Vegas anyways. My heater is on.
Last night, I wore my jacket for the first time this year.
I can't write anymore tonight...Too cold.
I'm going to go bundle up and eat a warm meal and drink a nice big mug of Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate....
Um...
Or, uh....maybe I'll just drink some tea.
Yeah, tea will be fine.
PARIS HILTON SEX TAPE
