* I got a kick out of penning these. Please excuse the self indulgence.
* Somebody mentioned the "vaporized shit" effect the other day as a reason for having a cover on your toilet bowl. In case you don't know about this, when you flush, some shit particals are emitted like an aerosol and waft all over your bathroom and settle onto places such as the bristles of your toothbrush. Sounds uber icky, I know. I don't get too narded up about such information, I figure we've been shitting in close proximity to one another for milennia, and I'm sure our bodies are used to filtering out any unwanted natural particles.
* Anyway, the only time I ever closed it was to sit down to put my socks on. It feels weird now to sit there with my pants on as I dress my feet.
* One of my students told a hilarious story about her aunt yesterday. Somehow we got onto the topic of shit. (Not hard to imagine given that I'm the teacher.) Seems her aunt and mother were out on the town and went into a swank watering hole after dining out. Upon entering, the aunt just had to go and went into the dark bathroom, squatted and OH MY GOD THE LID IS DOWN, splattered all over her fur coat which she was wearing but holding the length of it off to the side of the toilet. She got out of the bathroom and hustled up to her sister, "We have to go now." And her sister responded, "Something smells funny." "NOW NOW we have to go NOW," she wailed. I didn't think it was possible to crap your coat until I heard that story.
* At Home Depot, there is a no return policy on toilet seats that have been opened. They come in a box with a strip of packing tape over the end. Serge didn't open the box but when he returned it, the man at the return counter opened it to verify that the screws etc were there and then said, "We can't take back a toilet seat with the box open." I am not kidding. Of course Serge pointed out that it was the guy who had opened it and the clerk got all huffy and said, "The box is open though now, so I it can't be returned" Serge made him get the manager but a quick phone conversation with the manager was all it took. Their policy is for "hygenic reasons".
* The perfect shit:* Here's how immature I once was (still am?). Em's daughter was a baby. They were at our house in California and Em went into our bedroom to change the diaper. Immediately the most acrid smell swirled through the entire house. I grabbed my camera and went in for a look. It was like half of the volume of her body had come out in the form of brown gook. Ghastly. I snapped a picture, impressive as it was, and vowed to give it to her on her 16th birthday in a locket. I still have it and have amused myself over the years with the idea. But now, girl is nearly that age and there's no way I will have the heart to do it.
* Okay one more. This is about my ex. He tells a story of the first time he had the buttsecks. He was a teenager and he slept over at a mature man's home. Once they were finished, laying in the dark smoking cigarettes, my ex felt a hard lump in the bed and pulled it out with his hand and asked the mature man to turn on the light. He complied and there the ex was holding his own turd in his hand. Can you imagine? If you only knew how fussy and clean the ex was because that makes it all the funnier.