Daniel Romano, Finally Free (2018)

By Five-Inch Taint

This morning I did something that helped me relate much more to how Daniel Romano must have been feeling when he finished recording his latest album, Finally Free. I woke up and got ready for my typical morning constitutional. However, today was slightly different. Instead of going straight into the bathroom, I went into my office where I had a large brown bag filled with very specialized tools. Full of confidence, I pulled out a hat. Now, this is not your typical cap or a hat that a magician would pull a rabbit out of. No, the contents within were not any that a magician would want to extract. This hat is to be placed on a toilet seat and you are expected to fill it with your shit. So, I obliged. I duly placed down the hat in the proper location and proceeded to decimate it with a shit that contained the over 50 grams of fiber I had consumed the day before.

As I contemplate why my life has come to this point, I reach into the brown goodie bag to pick out the rest of its contents: two wooden sticks (not dissimilar to the old wooden tongue depressors), four pink latex gloves, and a vial that was destined to be the vessel of my shit. I wondered if the factory owners who oversaw the production of this piece of plastic ever considered what would be contained within their product?

After finishing my business, I slap on the gloves, pick up the sticks, and begin to shovel my excrement into this vile vial. After washing my hands, putting on some pants, I dutifully place my doodie container in a plastic bag to conceal its contents. Normally, I have very little shame. Most of my reviews on this website are about shit. However, as I headed off to the hospital to deposit my poop to some unsuspecting nurse, I began to feel this tremendous sense of embarrassment. No person should ever have to hand personal butt brownies to another living being. I ask: What am I doing with my life? How could something that I produced that is never intended to be seen in the general public now be on display for all the world to see? I felt shame and embarrassment.

As I approached the hospital, I started to think more about the person receiving my contained crap. What poor, unsuspecting fool will I be releasing my release on? Before I knew it, I approached the desk, handed the receptionist the test orders, my identification, and my insurance information. Great, I realize, now this is not just some anonymous dung—it has a name. That name is “Five-Inch Taint.” Awash with a wave of self-consciousness, and much to my chagrin, I hand it over and announce: I am Five-Inch Taint, and this is shit. The entire buildup of this morning, but this last moment in particular, is how I imagine Daniel Romano must have felt when he recorded his latest album Finally Free. I cannot begin to tell you how awful this album is.