Hi, I’m Kate Baxter, and yes, this book is about farts, sharts, and poops. If you're clutching this book like you're hiding something shameful in a public restroom, relax. You’re among friends here. This isn’t some high-brow dissertation with diagrams of intestines drawn by a man who hasn’t smiled since 1983. This is the real deal. The messy, hilarious, deeply personal, sometimes horrifying reality of the human digestive aftermath. And let me tell you, it’s time we all started talking about it.

I’ve pooped my pants. There, I said it. We’re starting strong. I’ve farted in elevators, yoga classes, weddings, and once during a particularly silent moment at a job interview. I’ve misjudged a fart and ended up walking funny for the rest of the day. I’ve hovered over toilets in gas stations, squatted in the woods with squirrels staring, and once destroyed a friend’s guest bathroom so badly that I pretended to leave my phone there just so I could go back and flush again without arousing suspicion.

So why write a whole book? Because nobody tells you that farts can be categorized, that poops come in personality types, or that a shart is not just an accident—it’s a betrayal. We whisper about these things like they’re forbidden, when really, they’re just biology with a punchline. Your body is weird, wonderful, and sometimes an absolute menace. Let’s break it down. Let’s label it. Let’s classify the chaos.

This book is for anyone who has ever clenched in public. For those who’ve felt the panic of an unexpected gurgle in a silent room. For people who’ve texted a best friend mid-bathroom emergency because they just needed moral support. You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ve been there. I’ve got stories, I’ve got knowledge, and I’ve got an extremely high tolerance for embarrassment.

We’re going deep into the underworld of human output. We'll explore the spectrum of toots, decode the language of splashes, and dissect the anatomy of every unfortunate “oops” that ever ruined a pair of underwear. We’ll learn, we’ll laugh, we might gag a little, but mostly we’ll celebrate what makes us human—our need to occasionally blast one out in the privacy of our own cars.

So if you’re ready to become a poop connoisseur, a fart philosopher, and a shart survivalist, then buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy, possibly gassy ride. And I promise, it’s going to be worth every sniff.