I'm fully aware that everybody shits.
I shit, you shit, boys shit, girls shit, my dog shits, your mom shits...
In fact, this common act spurred the idea for the greatest piece of literature known to man, "Everybody Poops."
I'm actually quite open to talking about my own personal shit stories in certain company, but that company doesn't include a guy I'm interested in that I've known for three days. I mean, come on, that's just cruel. We all know that men would rather deny the fact that women shit than live in reality...and guess what? Women feel the same way about men.
There's a certain point in a relationship where you become aware of the fact that your partner does in fact shit and that's OK. It no longer makes you cringe when it's mentioned and with time, jokes may even be cracked about the other's shit habits. My favorite? My brother-in-law yelling, "Gina's takin' a shiiiiiiit!" if my sister (or anybody) is in the bathroom more than 30 seconds.
However, that comfort level does not materialize after three days or even a week. When I'm still unsure of what your middle name is and I'm still learning the names of your siblings and your views on religion, I do not want to know about your bowel movements. And, for the love of god, I don't want to be anywhere near you when you release them...so just don't fucking do it.
Burping and farting? Still funny, to an extent, but please use your best judgement. You might want to wait at least a few dates before letting the ass trumpet loose.
Ok, that is all for now. Until next time...happy shiting...alone...and not in front of somebody you just started dating...