I suppose there are some souls out there that have lived a life so sheltered, so insular, so… limited, that they have never known the joy of having a friend excitedly describe to them the turd they have just deposited into the toilet. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll even ask you to come and have a look. Don’t pretend you don’t know of what I speak. No man is an island, much less a floater in the bowl that leaves wicked crayoning around the edges as it gets flushed.