"Poogasm" or "Another Kick at the Can"

Sorry to return to another detestable diatribe on defecation, but some things I just can't comprehend.

I understand fully the pleasurable pinnacle a person can obtain when the push-and-pinch provides a plethora of piquante relief hormones pulsating through a person's pipeline (pick a peck of pickled peppers 5 times fast).

I also understand how during that same superpowered sensation someone could squeak a sigh of satisfaction when surfing solo in the salle de bain (sick a seck of sickled seppers 5 times fast?).

What I fail to comprehend is what the people who exhale these exhortations think they're accomplishing, if anything, when they do it in the presence of proper persons in public?

The multi-orgasmic moans and musings emanating from their mouths following happy clappy flappy flatulence in their seemingly less than soundproof stall is digusting to the point that they may as well be copulating with a corpulant corpse for all I could care.

The juxtaposition of a joyous moan or grunt immediately proceeding presumptuous plumbing plugging poo pumping is just perplexing. Odd enough to make one want to garrulously giggle but, not wanting to be apprehended at all by the poo pusher, one has to use extraordinary sound stifling personal powers lest, Heaven help us, you be harrowingly had.

What's worse? Being lavishly loud while tooting to the tune of number two, or noticing someone else's excremental excitement?

I just don't know and there is the ridiculous rub of it all.

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