I remember a time, a simpler time when my life was not about being covered by human fecal matter. A time where I was covered in happiness and rest. A time in which I was free to live my life, not in fear of dirty diaper bombs.
How can a human so small produce a lake of shit? The Michigan Lake of excrement. How does one shit up to their mid-back? How does one loose fourteen hundred gallons of poo and have time to poo again in the middle of a changing? I do not have the answers to any of these questions. Just a lingering case of P.T.S.D.
One day I will be free. Free from the tyranny of Osma Bin Shitladen. Unshackled to live life to the fullest. To live life as it was meant to be, unafraid and without poo related retaliatory strikes.