To have one's poop in a group

I heard this expression from a fellow student who was too polite to say she had her shit together (or didn't, as the case may be). I thought it was cute, in an unpleasantly visual sort of a way.
Have you ever hit 'next blog' when you're visiting a blog? I sometimes do this, and it just takes you to another random blog. I say random, although because it's google-based it's probably reading all my emails and every google search I've ever done. A lot of blogs are very annoying. Perhaps it's just me having a bad day but a lot of them just seem to have their poop in a group way too much and make the rest of us look bad. This one for example. I want to run around her house and disorganize it, put a spoon in with the forks, blur the microscopically focused pictures of muffins, that sort of thing. This lady, bless her, is doing a wonderful work, and all credit to her for doing something I would never ever do if you paid me a million dollars. You go girl, keep on making the rest of us look bad. Power to you. And I do get annoyed at the children-worship sites - look at us, we procreated!
Any amount of reading will indicate how ungrouped my poop is. At least I hope so. I don't have any amount of shit together. I just podge along doing the best I know how and see what happens. I like blogs like that. (This one, for example.) Make me feel like I'm not alone.

...a little later...

I read the Frederick Buechner quote for today from Listening to Your Life. I love it when this happens. Holy synchronicities.

Pushing down hard with his fists on the table-top he heaved himself up to where he was standing. For the first time we saw he wanted one leg. It was gone from the knee joint down. He was hopping sideways to reach for his stick in the corner when he lost his balance. He would have fallen in a heap if Brendan hadn't leapt forward and caught him.

"I'm as crippled as the dark world," Gildas said.

"If it comes to that, which one of us isn't, my dear?" Brendan said.

Gildas with but one leg. Brendan sure he'd misspent his whole life entirely. Me that had left my wife to follow him and buried our only boy. The truth of what Brendan said stopped all our mouths. We was cripples all of us. For a moment or two there was no sound but the bees.

"To lend each other a hand when we're falling," Brendan said. "Perhaps that's the only work that matters in the end."