Wrong, but close:

I think she was embarrassed that I’d witnessed what a baby she was at camp. I hadn’t cared at the time, and had tried to help her out as much as possible, but I think that made it worse - she just stewed about it and got humiliated and decided to make me feel as horrible as she had. Even with my mom’s intervention it…

Or the tampon instructions for the millionth time and wonder if you’re dying from toxic shock in that very minute

Honest to gosh, cross my heart this is true.

I went from multiple stall bathroom to 4 scattered ladies rooms around the building. I hate it! Someone knocked today. I freaked out and awkwardly mumbled, ‘yeah??’, like, the door is locked, what do you want from me???? I had the whole multiple stall thing worked out, peeing, pooping, tampons, the whole 9, man! First…

I used to love to read books about summer camp. The adventure, the excitement, the romance! Alas, summer camp was definitely a thing for rich kids. I was just lucky enough to live close to a public library so my addiction to terrible YA summer camp novels could be indulged for free.

Summer camp was for rich kids.

My spouse’s office has a bathroom with total little cubicles. Woodgrained walls to the floor, private sinks. Luxe, baby. My office had a bathroom that opened into the main open plan desk farm, dead center of the back wall. Which means everyone knew when you went and for how long. It was hell.

Its not shyness. Its fear ofsmoking out the other occupant with a nuclear bomb of a dump.

It helps if everyone you work with is open about what actually happens in the bathrooms. One of my past jobs was a clinic with three single-use bathrooms (thank goodness). Two were for regular business, but the one in the back in the un-airconditioned storage area was the pooping bathroom. We called it “the back…

Some of the guys in my office do this. They seem unabashedly keen to watch porn in the crapper at work. Of course, there are also the guys who take conference calls in there, too, which boggles the mind.

I call this “The Great Pooping Stand Off.” I hate it when I’m trying to wait out someone who seems to be trying to wait me out. It’s like Thunderdome. But with pooping.

I work at a college, too, and have had the same thing happen to me! One time a girl whipped out a curling iron and STARTED CURLING HER HAIR. Finally I was like “fuck it, I’m pooping.”

Or you just read the back of the shampoo/bodywash/conditioner bottle

Here is the number #1 (no pun intended) rule of etiquette for multi-stall bathrooms: If you are done with your business and the other door that was shut when you got there is still shut, someone is holding onto their poop for dear life, praying that you will hurry up and leave. Please move along. Hopefully someone…

It’s so weird how I want to ignore his charm because it sounds so predictable after The Notebook, but I’ll be damned if that guy just doesn’t charm the pants right off me. He has that gaze and that smirk. I need to watch Crazy Stupid Love this weekend.

My urine is so clear it’s probably drinkable!

her first, Bronx Mowgli

My advice: Remember that no one owes you a relationship. If you feel like you deserve a person who wants to be with you, youre looking at it all wrong.

the best way to become a self-loathing man is to take advice from women on how to be a man. sites like the gawker/kinja sites are FULL of self-loathing men who have pretty much become slaves to the whims of women and only think of women as victims; and full of women more than willing to take advantage of men who think…