Wow, am I constipated. Someone should put warning labels on those white pieces of torture.
“Eat only if you do not wish to pooh for the next 36 hours.”
The worst part is that I know it will all come out at once, in its own time, when I am stuck at work. I know these people that work here, and while I like them, I do not like sharing a toilet seat with them. Why can’t we have sanitary wipes in each stall to clean the seat when the user is finished?
On one trip I had to stop at a gas station and use the “facilities.” Let me tell you, that was not a good pit stop. I felt the need to try and spit shine everything in the restroom before “letting nature run its course.”
Why doesn’t someone invent disposable toilets? How nice would that be, knowing that your ummm… fanny, was the first to ever grace the seat? No more examining the person who just left the restroom, no more praying that the trucker who was before you “merely used the urinal.”
I’m not sure how women handle this; I’m assuming that the hope of the person ahead of you using the urinal and not the throne of mercy does not exist.
Quick note: I am not asking for stories on how you deal with this, but if you feel the need to let the world in on your secrets, be my guest.
*You know, I thought it would be at least two weeks before you delved into potty humor.*
I love the fact that I can surprise you still, keeps our relationship fresh and exciting. Speaking of fresh, anyone tried a bidet?
Well, I gotta get going, really. I got to GO! I sure hope Brother #1 wasn’t just in there….
2 comments:
One word buddy "Clorox Wipes". Portable--Cleansing--Sanitary--Clorox Wipes. By the way if you were Indian like me, the opposite happens with Cheese. Guess when the white man brought over his cows, he forgot to warn us the power of the leche? Ahhh....the power of Cheese?
That's why we are married: we both hate poohing in public places.
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