a conversation which could not, would not take place on a train

Names have been changed to protect the innocence.


Poor fricky: i'm absentmindedly plucking a beach boys song on my guitar and listening to america's funniest home videos playing in the living room

anonymous female: i feel like I need to poop

anonymous female: but I know if I go at this stage, I'll just fart..

anonymous female: so I gotta let it build up some first..

Poor fricky: you're special

anonymous female: I know

Poor fricky: not many girls would admit to knowing that secret of our bowels.

anonymous female: yeah I've learned to read my bowel feelings

anonymous female: so I know exactly when I need to go

anonymous female: and I know exactly when Im going to be in trouble if I don't go immediately

Poor fricky: my friend jason doesn't go "until the little brown bear pokes his head out"

Poor fricky: i can't tempt fate like that. i go before the bear gets restless

anonymous female: I sort of tease my asshole muscles. Well I tease the BEAR and I suck him back in if he's winning at chicken

anonymous female: and then I go poop

anonymous female: that made no sense I suppose

Poor fricky: it made sense. i was kinda wishing it didn't, but it did.

anonymous female: and now it's time, so if you will excuse me.. I must poop.

September 07, 2001 | 7:59 p.m.

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