Parenting

I’m The One Who Jokes About Poop, Farts And All The Other Gross Stuff

by Virginia Duan
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Originally Published: 
Woman with curly hair laughing at gross stuff with hands on her head
Klaus Vedfelt/Getty

Sometimes, I feel like a 12-year-old boy. After all, I find guy stuff: farts, shit, burps, and anything related to dicks, balls, vaginas, and in particular — assholes — hilarious. The kids are right there with me and yes, my husband also finds it funny, but he’s not the one who’s always turning everything into a sex joke.

In fact, in our family, I’m the go-to person for a good poop joke. Well, quite frankly, I’m the go-to person for any good joke because I’m the resident funny person, but I digress.

It’s a point of pride that I can find a sexual innuendo in every comment and even though my husband says I’m puerile (okay, he doesn’t, but only because his grasp of vocabulary is tenuous at best) but I know deep inside, he finds me hilarious. Look at the restraint I’m exerting right now. I set myself up so brilliantly and in my effort to not make this piece one long dick joke — oops — I’ll just quit while I’m ahead. (Pun intended.)

I would apologize, but why?

Listen. Pulling pranks and being crass and rowdy aren’t the sole domains of men. Contrary to popular opinion, women can be (and are) funny, ridiculous, and absurd. In fact, I’d argue that most women are especially equipped for the raunchy and squelchy because so much about being a woman is inherently gross.

In fact, one of my favorite things to discuss as a woman in mixed company is to speak candidly about menstruation and leukorrhea. I take great delight in the discomfort of men. But honestly, they should thank me for the free education. Why is it that the average woman likely knows way more about a man’s anatomy but almost zero men know anything about a woman’s?

My own husband, with whom I’ve had four children, did not know what ovulation meant. Much to his chagrin, I will never stop telling people about this — if only because it is hilarious, disappointing, and unsurprising all in one.

What is “guy” stuff anyway?

No, seriously. What is it?

Let’s really unpack what that means. Without overthinking, we generally lump business, sports, video games, technology, violence, the outdoors, and a propensity to overuse body spray into the “guy” stuff category. But why?

Please, don’t be generic and spin me some crap about how stereotypes exist for a reason and that these are just gross generalizations (it is, indeed gross) and why am I just so fucking sensitive (is it because I’m a “chick” and that’s just “chick” stuff?) But if you think about all these notions of what is within the purview of each sex, it’s absurd. Why do guys get to monopolize our bodily functions? I want to talk about the scatological, too!

I mean, keep the body spray — no one likes that — but aren’t these topics just “people” stuff? Doesn’t everyone find shit hilarious? (Literally and figuratively.)

Let’s reject this false binary

Just like there is no such thing as boy toys and girl toys or boy clothes and girl clothes — like how can toys or clothes have a gender — I roundly reject the idea of “guy” stuff. In fact, I reject the idea of anything being inherently gendered — or that there are even only two genders.

Let us spurn the idea of “or” and instead embrace the “and.” We are no longer early proto-humans who need to quickly categorize everything we encounter into “will eat us” and “will not eat us.” We now have the luxury of way too much fucking time that we can contemplate the vast complexities of the universe (and yet, we expend valuable brain real estate on the perfect cunning linguist joke) so we don’t need to stereotype quite as urgently anymore.

We can now entertain nuance and shades of gray — oh, who am I kidding. Have I seen the internet? Hegemony really does a fucking number on us all.

Friends, let us resist.

Let us not be surprised when women are the assertive, boisterous, and crude ones of a relationship. We can not give a fuck because it’s part of life — and we are not the meeker, milder sex.

We don’t have to be stuck in this submissive narrative — we can dominate or even switch. We can do whatever the fuck we want. Bring on the fart jokes!

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