January 30, 2009
Would you eat a bowl of your own shit?
Oh, snap! It’s the most classic of the classic What If and the mother of all For a Million Dollars questions. You really can’t even pretend to play this game without this dare. I mean, if you think about it, this question is really a metaphor for your whole life. So I call bullshit on trying to get around posing this dare, which really means you’re not asking the hard questions. You’re just wasting everyone’s time and boring me and pussyfooting around what we all really want to know, which is Will You or Will You Not Eat Shit for Money? And please, don’t act outraged or shocked or embarrassed that you’re being asked. Just answer the question, Claire. Grow some sack and let’s talk frankly.
For me, this question is a yes – but with a caveat: I’m definitely going to do some haggling. My shit eating price – especially if we’re talking a whole bowl – starts at $2 million (It might even start at $3 million…I’d have to really think about it). Also, I’m assuming that vomiting in the middle of the dare doesn’t disqualify me. Because I’m pretty sure that anyone who doesn’t make a regular habit of eating shit (and yes, there is a whole group of pervs out there who just can’t get enough of eating it) won’t be able to keep it down. I’ll bet that I’d start dry heaving and gagging the moment I set eyes on the bowl, probably. I have a whole host of issues re: bodily functions as it is (I can’t go at work at all, I can’t go when I’m out, I leave parties rather than do #2 at someone else’s house), so I can only imagine what a horrible experience this would turn out to be. But I would definitely, for that kind of money, give it a shot. Or the old college shit-eating try, as they say.
Oh – and if I had any forewarning about this dare, I would closely monitor what I ate in the time leading up to its completion. It’s an unpleasant enough experience as it is; I’ll consume anything that might help make it less so.
Lauren? Yes or no?
Hell no. I most certainly would not. I’m actually gagging a little just imagining the scenario. Frankly, it’s the kind of thing that would induce post-traumatic stress disorder. Say I did go through with it…I’m pretty sure that in the future, every time I would attempt to eat somtehing, that steaming bowl of dung would flash before my eyes. It would haunt my dreams. And it would most likely make me very, very sick. E coli, anyone? I’ll pass. In the words of ee cummings: “there is some shit i will not eat.” Amen to that.
I just want to commend myself for not once shoehorning the phrase “shit-eating grin” into this post.
No, thank you.