Everyone in the Airport Restroom Has Ass Cancer

As I traverse the vast expanse of this great nation and inch ever closer to ticking "Drop a Deuce in Every State" off my bucket list, I can't help but observe a disconcerting pattern throughout my adventures. It's no secret that American diets are the worst they've ever been, but nothing makes it more obvious than hearing a poor bastard scream in agony as he unloads a dump truck full of mud into the neighboring airport restroom stall.

It wasn't that long ago when these facilities sang the innocent tunes of rustling newspaper pages while two or three confident grunts gave way to a healthy, proud splash. Sure, you sometimes had the weary traveler draining spare ribs from a layover in Dallas, but this was the exception rather than the rule. These days, multiple stalls are occupied by tenants on the brink of death, struggling to evacuate lunch without prolapsing their anus.

Gone is the glorious institution of comfortably resting on a public toilet in the age-old tradition of catching up on yesterday's news. Instead, our bathroom sanctuaries have fallen victim to the clutches of diabetic Americans boasting more rolls than a Texas Roadhouse. These individuals have transformed a once-dignified ritual into the sadistic sport of UFC on porcelain.

This isn't an isolated phenomenon. There isn't an airport restroom in the entire country immune to the epidemic of eight men simultaneously moonlighting their assholes as volcanoes, subjecting modern plumbing to the Herculean task of digesting torrents of toxic-riddled feces.

I can't help but feel like an outsider, disconnected from the tumultuous game of thrones occurring in each and every stall. My healthy diet allows bowel movements to peacefully settle beneath the serene waters of a toilet bowl before every flush; I'm not worried that my asshole may commit an unexpected explosive force akin to a Texas dairy farm; and better lifestyle choices will spare me from the distressing flow of thick, bloody mucus, indicating critical liver damage and a future colostomy bag.

America's airport travelers are clearly in trouble. Even though it's disheartening to acknowledge that every individual in a public restroom seems to be grappling with some form of debilitating ass cancer, it won't deter me from achieving my goal of depositing wholesome dietary endeavors down the chute of every state in America.