READY, AIM, SQUAT!
Squatty Potty®, DIY Version
In which your intrepid writer writes s**t and a** a lot but without the asterisks
If you prefer a bleeped version go to my web site, www.noshit.com.
Surely you know about Squatty Potty®. If not, shame on you. It’s a contraption that’s supposed to make your shit slide forth like cream cheese from that little foil wrapper.
Even I know about it. What rock do you live under? Highlight “Squatty Potty” above — OK OK — or here. Do you think I’m blind? Or stupid? Don’t answer that! Just highlight the words “Squatty Potty” somewhere and in the drop-down list that appears choose “Search Google for Squatty Potty.” If you are on your phone, sorry. You will have to Google it the old fashioned way.
Where were we?
Ah, yes. Having just gotten back to going to the gym regularly, what better way to complete the health-conscious picture than with a Squatty Potty®? It’s supposed to be real good for you, right? I’m way to cheap to buy one, so —
— yes, yes, I know. My feet are supposed to be tucked further in and my knees further up, but I had ten seconds to stage this shot, so what do you want? Besides, my seventy-one year-old-knees don’t tuck much further than illustrated above.
It’s worse than that. As some of you know, I bike a lot, so I don’t have much in the way of padding back there. Do you have any idea what even this poor excuse for a Squatty Potty® does to my ass bones? Raising my knees like this changes the force vectors such that my weight shifts directly onto the contact point between my ilia and the toilet seat. Ouch!
Note my use of the terms force vectors and ilia, indicating that we are talking science here, so there can be no argument. It’s all too much for my bony seventy-one-year-old ass.
Think about it — or not — um, what? Since you seem to be so squeamish, let me force the issue.
If my knees were any further up and I was trying to take a shit out on the steppe — I’m white so it would be the steppe, not the savanna, unless I wanted to take it back another couple of hundred-thousand years or so — wait, where was I? Oh yeah, out on the steppes of Ukraine, trying to take a shit. If I had my knees up any farther I’d topple back into it, which would not be sanitary.
Having set up the setup in the lead picture, now I need to do the same in the downstairs bathroom. To do that I will have to go buy another little stool like the one pictured. That won’t be easy. Have you tried to buy something useful in a retail store lately? If I want an actual Squatty Potty® I’ll go online. I refuse to go into my local GotUselessCrap home goods store and ask where Squatty Potties® are, if I could even find anyone to ask.
Wait, that might not be necessary.
If I use the kitty-litter container as a foot-rest it should satisfy even the most sadistic of Squatty Potty® purists. That’s if I could even get my feet up there while sitting on the throne, which I can’t. Never mind getting them there fast enough for — you know. I’d need to attach trapeze to a pulley on the ceiling. Then I could put it under my knees and yank. I’d better be quick about it!
If I did all that my wife would rightly conclude I’d lost my mind and have me committed. Alas! Squatty Potty® will never grace my life. Never will I know the benefits — the bliss! — of a good shit.
Special thanks to Rachael Ann Sand for her editing, and to Amy Sea, who said she wanted to know.
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