>> Speaker A: That all well bred people, therefore, to avoid giving such offense, forcibly restrain the efforts of nature to discharge that wind. M welcome back to privy. Privy is a podcast about bathrooms recorded from my home bathroom. I'm your host, hunter Hoover, and I love bathrooms. And if you're listening to this, yesterday was American Independence day. Happy independence
day. Um, if you don't know the story, uh, I'm sorry, but that's the most big headed american thing I'm probably going to say. Uh, but once upon a time, America was controlled by the British. I don't know how anybody finds themselves in that state, but we don't like it. We dumped a bunch of tea in the ocean, took up drinking coffee, beat the british back, uh, and they went back to where they came from, and the rest was literally history. America was born.
Freedom. Dig it, man. And if you celebrate in traditional us of a style, you shoot Chinese made pyrotechnics into the sky, uh, thus declaring freedom somehow, I don't know. Um, but I'll tell you what, american Independence day, it hits pretty hard. Especially you kind of go through a slog of just the beginning of summer is just kind of a slog. And that first part of summer, it's the first kind of thing in summer that you really, really get to sink.
>> Speaker B: Your teeth into and just kind of just get together. >> Speaker A: Do you know what I'm saying? Just go celebrate something worth celebrating. Uh, at the point of this record, I returned today from a couple day camp trip with my family in the. >> Speaker B: Uh, national, ah, forest out by Mount Hood. >> Speaker A: And, um, while it's there, and you guys, uh, if you haven't heard, uh, go follow Randy Bowles on
Instagram. Randy Bowles. Um, that is where all the kind of dangerous bowls that I get and. >> Speaker B: Take pictures of in my bathroom, wanderings. >> Speaker A: And travels, uh, those pictures will live there. And needless to say, randy Bowles picked up some pretty sweet material
on this camp trip. Uh, there was porta potties and camp toilets that were well loved, for lack of a better way of saying it, at one point, there was toilet paper pirating and pilfering because you just got to make sure that you're going to have the material that you're going to need to make it through your next stop. And so there's a lot of planning ahead that has to, you know, perhaps you are one who goes out and ventures out into the camping space,
uh, for your independence day celebrations. I know when I was growing up, my family and I used to venture into the woods to Lincoln, Montana, uh. >> Speaker B: If you don't know, uh, Lincoln is. >> Speaker A: Home of the unabomber. So, uh, just another shout out to. >> Speaker B: Things that Montana gave us.
>> Speaker A: Uh, but we used to venture out into the woods of Montana, and I'll tell you what, a fireworks show doesn't hit quite as hard as it does echoing off the bowl of the mountains as you're sitting in the valley listening and watching the fireworks shoot skyward. It's a good time. Uh, yeah, it's a good display. Uh, we regularly out here, um, at the point of this record, a full week ago, um, we gather at a farm in Sayo and enjoy the fireworks there.
There's a nice gentleman who graciously, uh, invites and hosts a bunch of people out on his property. So, um, yeah, that's where we go and celebrate. And, yeah, it's just a good time, but we have come a, um, long way since the original Independence day. Like, America is still free, but now we spend a lot of time arguing about how we should use that freedom and what we should focus that freedom
on. In past years, here on the show, here on privy, uh, to remember and celebrate american independence, we have discussed something that is kind of truly american, that's kind of this Independence Day episode is, uh, to celebrate something of american history that is related to the toilet. And in past years, we have looked at the patriotic privy pits. These were pits that were dug that when the contents, or lack thereof, are observed, they can tell us a lot about
life in America at this time. They essentially think of, like, a time capsule. You think of those, like, 1990s Nickelodeon time capsules that. I wonder if we're going to start digging those back up. We're going to find some horrors of our past as we do so. But, uh, these privy pits kind of serve as little mini time capsules filled with, well, regular time capsule things, but also crap and pee. Uh, and they tell us a lot about american life at the time. If you want to go hear more about that, you
can check out our episode from two years ago. Uh, yeah, just go into the, you know, how to find podcasts. I'm not going to explain it to you. I refuse to explain it to you. This week, however, we need to discuss some of the found. Well, one primarily, but we need to discuss this idea of the founding fathers, and we're going to discuss one of them. But before we get there, we should remember who these men were.
>> Speaker B: M. >> Speaker A: To say America declared its independence on July 4, is a bit of a buried lead. In short, the process, much like anything that has to do with government, you know what I'm saying? Uh, it didn't happen in one day. A lot of times, they wait right up to the last minute, kind of like they recently did on this spending cut thing. I don't know. I'm not a politician or a historian, but the process started a year before, in 1775.
During this time, the actions of the colonies and some of the means that they were taking caused King George. He's the dumb sounding and idiot looking fellow from Hamilton. If you saw, um, that rap musical, an idea that very fascinating to me, but he's, like, the only funny part in the whole thing. Um, but King George decided to declare America to be an open rebellion. And to that, I say, whoopty frigendipity, because they deliberated, and they were figuring out, well, what are we going to
do? He has declared us to be in rebellion, and so what is our next move? And so they met, and they held the second Continental Congress, where they set up a formal military. If we're going to be free, we're going to need to fight for it. On June 11, 1776, a draft document was begun by five members. John Adams, Robert Livingston, Roger Sherman, Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin. These men drafted the document, which was then sent to Congress on June 28, 1776. Do you see
that? It took 20. No, it took almost 20 days for them to meet and draft this document. Like, I'm telling you what a time this document was signed. And John Adams told his wife he thought that this is the Declaration of Independence. He thought that they would celebrate their independence every year on July 2. You almost had it, John. Uh, you almost this close. Like, two off. But meanwhile, the British are coming, and they have brought an
army. The final draft of the Declaration of Independence was approved on July 4, american Independence day. >> Speaker B: America. >> Speaker A: Freedom. Dig it, man. The document itself would not, however, be signed in its entirety until August, um, which. It's kind of a sliding scale, but I hate August, because August literally has no holidays. It's kind of a boring month. And the argument is, well, if we moved the 4 July, uh, now, obviously, it would not be called
4 July. It would be just american Independence Day. We would call it the whatever of August. But then July is not going to have anything, do you know what I'm saying? So just leave it where it's at. And the other thing here is. So we just went camping, and during the night, it's nice. It's so cool. Uh, it feels so good sleeping in that cold. But, man, sometimes during the day, and we're in the mount. Like, we're in on Mount Hood. It's up there
and not, like on the mountain. I'm not like some sort of summit person. Uh, it's cold, ICE cold, just like this polar seltzer. But during the day, it gets pretty hot. I can't imagine all of these guys in this building, in this room together with nothing but windows and the open air. Like, no electricity. We're going to talk more about electricity here in just a little bit. But, man, it's hot. And these dudes were not showering. They probably were
not the cleanest people around. They were probably not filthy. But the standard of rank was, like, they tolerated much more than we do nowadays. I went two and a half days with no shower, and I was starting to get some ranko stanko, and I was fit over it. So imagine these guys take a bath or two a week, sometimes a special bath. They're all huddled in a small room, no aC. Half of them had rotten or wooden teeth. Place probably stank. 56 men. It's a lot of men. Nice. Signed the document. Some
were born in the US colonies. Some, um, had come to the US from abroad. The ages of these men ranged from 30 to 70 years old, from all sorts of professions united under one ideal. They're sick and tired of paying taxes to a tyrant king. And so freedom was their pursuit. The declaration was signed, and the war began. Now, this episode is not about the war. Frankly, it isn't even going to be about the declaration per se. We just need to acknowledge and justify
the connections we're making. We can't simply just sit down and launch in. We have to connect it to what's going on in our lives. Thus american Independence Day. We have made the connection, but we need to talk about bathrooms. This is privy, dang it. We're here to talk about bathrooms and the things that we do in them and on them and around them, inside them, with
them. This week, before we talk about bathrooms and after we talk about the declaration, we need to focus in on one of these specific founding fathers, Benjamin Franklin. Little Benny was kind of a, uh, jack of all trades. Besides being the one who helped draft and later sign the Declaration of Independence, he was also an inventor, a scientist. >> Speaker B: A philosopher, and turns out, kind of an egomaniac.
>> Speaker A: The dude was pretty into himself, and he loved to be right, and who doesn't like to be right? But there's a difference between loving to be right and liking to be right. If you love to be right, you have to be right. Do you know what I'm saying, you ever meet one of those people that just has to be right? Like, they argue with you about everything. I mean, they'd be staring at you. You'd be like, dude, I really love. >> Speaker B: This purple shirt I'm wearing.
>> Speaker A: And they will, despite all proof, tell you that the shirt is white. By the end of his life, Ben. >> Speaker B: Franklin was known for being the first. >> Speaker A: Postmaster general, discovering electricity, charting and naming the Gulf stream. He invented the lightning rod, the bifocal glasses, the Franklin stove, metal lined furnace. He founded the library company, Philadelphia's first fire department, and the University of Pennsylvania.
He was a newspaper editor and printer, and he became the author and began to publish poor Richards Almanac. In short, the man Ben Franklin embodied the american dream. So much so that they put his mug on the $100 bill in 1928, which was about 130 years after his death. But before that, Mr. Franklin had a lot of interactions with many know the story of, uh, Ben Franklin discovering eccentricity. He ignores the good advice. Frankly, it's good advice of
every parent. Every parent has told their kid, don't stick your finger when it comes to electricity. Every parent has told their kid, don't stick your finger in the outlet. Don't stick anything in the outlet. Stay away from the outlet, and don't fly your kite in the. It's just, it's just plain and ignored the advice of every good intentioned parent. And he flew his kite, and he sees the thunderstorm, and he thinks, you know what? I'm going to get out there and fly my
kite. And he says, you know what? Better yet, I'm going to strap a flipping key to the end of it, some metal bits, so that way we can make sure this joker gets hit by electricity. Well, one thing led to another, and he discovered electricity. Bottled it, if you will. All, uh, because of a windstorm. Now. >> Speaker B: The facts of the famous key. >> Speaker A: Flying kite scene of Ben Franklin are. It's kind of one of those american tales. He likely flew a kite. He was
likely studying storms and electricity. He probably had a hypothesis. But whether he stuck a kite in the sky, it got zapped, and that's how he solved this thing. I'm not sure. It's hard to tell how much is myth, what we do know. Ben Franklin was an avid scientist, and he would study the heck out of things, try to figure them out. But there's some other things that Ben Franklin would do that were particularly. >> Speaker B: Wind. >> Speaker A: Or wind related, particularly weird.
There's this story about Ben Franklin and John Adams traveling in 1776. I like to think that it was to sign the Declaration of Independence, but it likely was not. On their travels, they were, quotes, forced, quote, forced to share a hotel. Now, listen, I don't know if this is, like, no room in the in situation or what's going. And I should also know, I am not insinuating a homosexual relationship between these two men.
Uh, it is pretty well established that Ben Franklin had a way with the ladies he particularly would pursue. Ladies of all marital status. It seems you can go look that up for yourselves. That's not what we're here to talk about. We're not here to disparage the name. But they were forced to share a hotel room. >> Speaker B: Now, it's probably something simple, but there's.
>> Speaker A: More to go, a lot more going on here than that, because Ben Franklin and John Adams differed on one key philosophy. And that philosophy, you might hear it and you go, man, oh, man, what is it? Ooh, I bet it's religion. I bet these two guys fought on know. It's the classic roommate atheist versus the Christian. No, that is not, um, bet. I bet it was their view on government. Well, here's the deal. They were both pretty united on the front
of go, America. We're getting out of this british thing. No. Oh, I bet it was a lady. I bet one of them. They both loved the same woman. Who knows? It ain't my place to tell. >> Speaker B: No. >> Speaker A: Ben Franklin and John Adams differed on, uh, an entirely different and key philosophical point. And that is the wind will make you catch a cold. John Adams believed in the old wives tale that sleeping with an open window and as a result, a, uh, stiff breeze.
Got some stiff breeze all over John Adams would make you catch a cold. Now, if that's the case, I should have had a cold all through freshman and sophomore year, and I should definitely have a cold coming back from this camp trip, because I'll tell you what, the wind on that lake that one day, man, that's a stiff breeze. You can almost like it's been a minute since I've experienced wind like that. Actually, I experienced a wind like that this past winter. Our neighbor, God
blesses something. I wake to some loud thumping and pounding sound on the side of my house, and I peer out my window and I see what looks like four forked things sticking up in there. I'm like, oh, my gosh. My first thought is my trampoline has gone. It's Dorothy and Toto's tornado adventure featuring Hunter's trampoline. But no, it was actually my neighbor's carport parking. And it flipped up over and onto its top
inside of our yard. And we had to help him push it back and over. It's still in a crumpled, mangled mess in his backyard. But I digress. It's been a minute since I have experienced wind to this degree, but if John Adams is correct, I should have a cold. And I assure you I'm feeling fine. My budies and I, in college, we used to do a thing called arctic chill. Uh, every night before we go to bed, we'd open up the
dorm room windows. Even if it was, I mean, it would be like 30, 40 degrees outside and we would open the windows and we just crank the window. Just crank those window fans as hard as you can, get them going. And it's just ICE boxes. This room, it's totally cold in there. It's so good. Get the arctic chill going for the evening, and then you just kind of leave. You go to dinner, you do around the lobby, you visit
some friends'rooms. You come back to the room at like 910 o'clock, settle in for some office. Oh, baby. Just an ICE cold room in the office and a little cup of sweet tea. Oh, shoot. It's good stuff. Um, that was a good time. But John Adams would have been pissed if he'd have seen what we were doing. However, Ben Franklin would have been thrilled because he was a big fan of this open air, stiff breeze. Well, Ben, in fact, Ben was pretty strong willed guy,
and he got his arctic chill that night. John Adams had to, I guess, catch a cold. Probably not. Sounds like he's being a little bit of a baby. But personally, if I had to share a broom with Ben Franklin, this would have been the least of my worries. >> Speaker B: Ben Franklin was an avid writer, explorer. >> Speaker A: And one of the things that he did regularly was write to his former colleagues abroad. These would translate his discoveries and findings into other languages.
One of the contemporaries that he wrote to was Jacques Barbo Duborg. That's the american English french pronunciation of this man's name. Um, and this guy, Jacques. Jacques whatever. He was like a french version of Ben Franklin. He strapped an electric conductor on the end of an umbrella. Was a botanist, a physician? You get the idea. Like, he's like, wish ben Franklin. He's like, weewee Monsour ben Franklin. But Franklin loved to discuss his medical understanding and findings with
Duborg. And Ben Franklin wrote in a letter to his colleague and friend Jacques. >> Speaker B: Jacques. >> Speaker A: Jacques. Jacques. In 1768 his letter reads, and I'm going to read it to you in the Og ben English that's what I'm calling it here. It reads, quote, I greatly approve the epithet which you give in your letter of the 8 June 4 eighthune to the new method of treating the smallpox, which you call
the tonic or bracing method. I will take occasion from it to mention a practice to which I have been accustomed myself. You know, the cold bath has long been in vogue here as a tonic, but the shock of, uh, the cold water has always appeared to me, generally speaking, is too violent. I have found it much more agreeable to my constitution to bathe in another element.
I mean cold air. With this view, I rise early almost every morning and sit in my chamber without any clothes whatever, half an hour or an hour according to the season, either reading or writing. This practice is not in the least painful, but, on the contrary, agreeable. And if I return to bed afterwards, before I dress myself, as sometimes happens, I make a supplement to my night's rest of one or 2 hours of the most pleasing sleep that can be imagined.
>> Speaker B: I find no ill consequences whatsoever resulting. >> Speaker A: From it, and that at least, it does not injure my health if it does not, in fact, contribute much to its preservation. Now, uh, end quote. If you don't read fancy old school American english, benny, uh, I like to call it big benny english. I'll translate. His budy had wrote him that taking a very cold bath served to help one's health and could be helpful when
dealing with smallpox. Now, this said, ben Franklin doesn't like cold baths because it shrivels up his little Franklin too much and makes him struggle for breath in the cold air. He doesn't like the polar plunge because it makes his little polar seltzer go, and he ain't into that. So rather, franklin, Benny boy Franklin prefers to strip down completely in the buff, open a window, and, quote, take a bath in the cold
air. He will sit with his button berries on furniture in his home, um, for a half hour to an hour, just going about his day, writing and thinking with his digit flopping about. And he notes he hasn't experienced any problems with his health due to it. Makes you wonder if Franklin ever had guests over, if he did so when he did, if he let them know that he, in fact, he essentially, like, rubbed his little Scott all over the seats everywhere. Like every day, windows are open.
Anyone could just walk by and catch. >> Speaker B: Ben in the middle of an airbath. >> Speaker A: And I think by 1776, which is years after Franklin wrote this to DeBorg, people would have gotten word that Franklin takes air baths. And when Adams and him shacked up for the night, and Franklin goes to the window and opens it. You have to imagine that Adams is just like, do you really have to do the thing while we're sharing a. You must. You really? >> Speaker B: Yes.
>> Speaker A: John, uh, bequeath you. I do. It's good for, my know, hanging brain in the drafty window can't be good for you, Ben. How can it? It just is. I can picture it so well, not. >> Speaker B: Not ben Franklin's digit, but, like, the argument between them. >> Speaker A: I don't think of Ben Franklin's member. An airbath. And what's weird here, the wild part is the logic is sound. Cold baths or cold showers are a shock to
the system. Are supposed to be pretty good for you. And so Ben found a happy medium, a slightly less shock to the system by standing nude in the open air. The airbag. But I think I know the other reason Franklin wanted the windows open so much. Ben Franklin was born in Boston, Massachusetts, to Josiah and, uh, Abaya Franklin in 17. Six. His father was a candle and soap
maker. Now, while these candles were probably more for home lighting, after all, his son hadn't yet discovered electricity and old Jefferson hadn't done the light bulb thing. I can't help but think they would sometimes put something in it to smell. And even just the smell of burning wax is good. Sometimes I just think of that birthday candle smell. It's so good. I ain't a big fan of birth. I actually love birthdays. I don't like my birthday. Um, it's a thing.
Big fan of getting hyped for other people's birthdays. I don't really understand the, like, I didn't do anything special, but that birthday candle smell is so good. Um, one of the things that I miss, uh, shout out to our custodians. But custodian really one of them out of the two right now at our church, Michael Wall. One of the things I miss is on Christmas Eve service, the candle lighting. I love standing there with those lit candles as you just contemplate the birth of Jesus.
You can't do it now because it's a fire and safety hazard and everybody's going to drip wax on the seats. WHOOP dee doo. But, like, you're, we're taking. Just light the candles. It's fine. It's fine. This is America. There's freedom. Light the candles. Ben Franklin was born to a soap and candle maker, and the soap would sometimes be perfumed, even if only slightly. And it may be a stretch, or it could just be self fulfilling prophecy.
But I can't help but think these good smells in the home helped influence another essay Franklin wrote in his adulthood. The essay is titled Fart proudly, and it is addressed to the Royal Academy of Farting in 1781. And after his introduction, Franklin writes, quote permit me then, humbly to propose one of that sort for your consideration, and through you, if you approve it, for the serious inquiry of learned physicians, chemists, et
cetera. Of this enlightened age. It is universally well known that in digesting our common food, there is created or produced in the bowels of human creatures a great
quantity of wind. That the permitting of this air to escape and mix with the atmosphere is usually offensive to the company from the fetted smell that accompanies it, that all well bred people, therefore, to avoid giving such offense, forcibly restrain the efforts of nature to discharge that wind, and so retained contrary to nature, it only gives frequently great present pain, but occasions future diseases, such as habitual colics, ruptures, tympanies, et cetera, often destructive of the
constitution, and sometimes of life itself. Were it not for the odiously, uh, offensive smell accompanying such escapes, polite people would probably be under no more restraint in discharging such wind in company than they are in spitting or in blowing their noses. My prized question, therefore, should be to discover some drug, wholesome and not disagreeable, to be mixed with our common food or sauces, that shall render the natural discharge of wind from our bodies not only inoffensive, but
agreeable as perfumes. That this is not a chimerical project, and altogether impossible, may appear from these considerations that we already have some knowledge of means capable of varying that smell. He that dines on stale flesh, especially with much addition of onions, shall be able to afford a stink that no company can tolerate, while he that has lived for some time on vegetables only shall have that breath so pure as to be insensible to the most
delicate noses. And if he can manage so as to avoid the report, he may anywhere give vent to his griefs unnoticed.
But as there are many to whom an entire vegetable diet would be inconvenient, and as little of a quick lime thrown into a jake's will correct the amazing quantity of fetted air arising from the vast mass of putrid matter contained in such places, and render it rather pleasing to the smell, who knows but that a little powder of lime, or some other thing equivalent taken in our food, or perhaps a glass of lime water drank at dinner, may have the same effect on the air produced and issuing from our
bowels? This is worth the experiment certain it is also that we have the power of changing the slight means. The smell of another discharge, that of our water, few stems of asparagus eaten, shall give your urine a disagreeable odor. A pill of turpentine no bigger than a pea, shall bestow on it the pleasing smell of violets. And why should it be thought more impossible in nature to find means of making perfume of our wind than of our water?
For the encouragement of this inquiry, let it be considered of how small importance to mankind, or how small, uh, a part of mankind have been useful. Those discoveries in science that have theretofore made philosophers famous. Are there 20 men in Europe at this day? The happier or even the easier for any knowledge they have picked out of Aristotle. What comfort can the vortices of Descartes give a man in his whirlwind, in his bowels, the knowledge of
Newton's mutual attraction of the particles of matter? Can it afford ease to him who is wracked by their mutual repulsion and the cruel distension it occasions? The pleasure arising to a few philosophers from seeing a few times in their life the threads of light untwisted and separated by the newtonian prism into seven
colors. Can it be compared with the ease and comfort every man living might feel seven times a day by discharging freely the wind from his bowels, especially if it be converted into a perfume for the pleasures of one sense being little inferior to those of another? Instead of pleasing the sight, he might delight the smell of those who about him and make numbers happy, which to a benevolent mind, much afford
infinite satisfaction. The generous soul who now endeavors to find out whether the friends he entertains like best clara of Burgundy, champagne, or Madeira, would then inquire also when they chose musk or lily rose or bergamot, and provide
accordingly. And surely such a liberty of expressing one's sentiments, sentiments and pleasing one another, is of infinitely more importance to human happiness than that liberty of the press or off abusing one another, which the English are so ready to fight and die for. In short, this invention, if completed, would be, as Bacon expressed it, bringing philosophy home to men's business and
bosoms. And I cannot but conclude that in comparison therewith for universal and continual utility, the science of the philosophers, abovementioned even with the addition, gentlemen, of your figure, Quelkan, I don't know that word. And the figures inscribed in it are altogether scarcely worth a fart thing. I'm sorry for the length of this, but he wrote so eloquently about a fart, that it must be read here on a bathroom podcast. Now I will restate
briefly. Franklin notes, eating makes us fart. Everybody farts, and this farting is generally. >> Speaker B: Offensive to those around us. >> Speaker A: You rip a big, beautiful beefer and people get pretty triggered. Now, we live in a world of Jude cranes, of hunter hoovers and the like that are standing up and saying, you know what? Just rip the beefer. It's fine. Like, everybody farts. It might smell, but we're all going to get over it pretty quick.
But Ben Franklin is of the sentiment that if we keep that wind puckered up back in your butthole, it doesn't feel good. He thus proposes a question, perhaps motivated by his soapy candle upbringing. Can we figure out how to perfume our farts? Something to spray on food, mix in food or drink to neutralize the odor and give it a good smell? He notes, we have this for other things, so why can't we develop this fart fume? Tmtm tmtm fart fume patent
pending. Not really. But maybe Ben Franklin loved ripping a good beefer. He loved to break wind, often while he took a wind bath, an air bath. He was in agreement with Shrek, it's better out than in, and wanted to come up with a way to make the toot less toot smelling and more flower appealing. >> Speaker B: Not a bad thought. >> Speaker A: But the results of that inquiry, uh, are for another day. Ben Franklin wants the windows open to air out his nethers and let the fart stink out.
>> Speaker B: And can you blame him? That's just another aspect of the american dream. Ripping it. >> Speaker A: Let freedom ringing, if you will. Hope you had a great american Independence day. This brings us to the end of another episode. I, uh, want to mention briefly, um, here. Please leave us a rating or review. Um, we've talked about freedom multiple times, and we were reminded by Sam Bagenstaw to keep pooping in the free world. Here at privy.
For every rating or review left, um, five star options are preferred. But for everyone left, we're donating money to the wounded warriors project. So leave those, check, uh, those at the end of every month, and that goes out at the end of every month. We, uh, really want to boost those, not just because it helps folks find the show, but wounded warriors. These are folks who fought and came back and bruised and beaten up emotionally and physically, uh, for our freedoms, which we celebrated this
week, um, on american Independence day. So if you, um, have been one of those who have given themselves in some way for those freedoms, uh, thank you. We love you. We love your families, uh, and your sacrifice. There's not enough that we can do to say thanks. M. If you have questions, comments, concerns, feedback, if you just want to say hi, if you have a bathroom story, pictures for Randy Bowles, anything, send those to privycast@gmail.com. >> Speaker B: We'd love to hear from you.
>> Speaker A: Follow us on social media. We're at privycast. You can join the Facebook group, the privies. And, uh, don't forget to follow Randy Bowles. Now, uh, you can follow me. I'm at Owlette seven. Uh, as always, we want to thank Pottington Bear and Kevin McLeod for the use of their music this week. You can see the description of their music in the doodly bopper below. Thanks, Kevin and Pottington. This has been another episode of Privy. Thank you all so much again for joining us.
Keep pooping in the free world to wash your butthole. And now, as always, don't forget to flush. >> Speaker B: It's.