Re: There is no magic toilet fairy

vicki wrote:

okay, i could be mistaken, but i thought we were all adults here…

as a general courtesy to others:
it’s bad enough that some people can’t clean up after themselves in the kitchen, but the bathroom really requires some common sense: SAY GOODBYE TO THE PAST, AND FLUSH THE TOILET AFTER YOURSELF. how hard could that be? no one wants to witness your dark secrets.

’nuff said.

As my dear old dad would say…” You sank my battle ship!”

–Remember this folks, poops are no laughing matter. There are some things in this world that you dont want to know about. And that rotten thing at the bottom of the toilet is one of them. This reminds me of the time I went to camp. I was a pretty sheltered kid and I never really hung out with the other kids. And as some of you may already know, I have three brothers. So I was quite uncomfortable around girls. Well, here I was at camp for two weeks and I ate custard and pie and cookies with steak and pancakes. I ate all sorts of shit. I ate berry’s off of trees that I wasn’t supposed to. But when it came time to letting go, I couldn’t. There was a girl I liked Eileen Scott and I was afraid she would hear me or see me some how. I was just too damn uncomfortable. Anyway I held on to breakfast lunch and dinner and all sorts of snacks for about two weeks. Remember Charleston chews? I had about two hundred of them. I couldn’t move. three days into it I started to grind my teeth. Thank god I was too young for coffee, if you know what I mean. Well anyway, Last day of camp they go ahead and make us do all these dumb races. Here I am trying to hold a freaking egg in a spoon and not let go of my eggo’s at the same time. To make matters worse they team me up with Eileen for the potato sack race. We get in, I’m in the worst pain I’ve ever been in. My stomach sounded like Trailer Truck and Eileen turns around and says that she likes me…A LOT. Boom. Bang. Zoom. I couldn’t clench anymore. I filled that entire bag with Jabba the hut if you know I mean. I rocked the Phantom menace twice if you know what I mean. Anyway, I felt a whole lot better, but I never spoke to Eileen Scott again. Poor girl, they had to cut the bag off us.

your pal Randell J Krandell

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