Tragedy has struck:
There is no winner for the Name That Peon contest.
This is most upsetting, so I will not dwell upon it. I wanted to give out a t-shirt, thereby garnering publicity for Mama D's and offering a gym t-shirt for someone else.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
Anyway,
I was talking to a former CNNer the other night, and I came to a truly fascinating conclusion:
My bowels prefer their home base toilet.
It's true.
It's as though they have Toilet GPS. They know! Only my own toilet will do.
When I am on vacation--I will be stopped up for days.
When I am at work--never happens.
At a friend's house--no way.
The only other place my bowels will accept is the Lord and Taylor bathroom on 5th Avenue.
How fortunate this is for Lord and Taylor! It's like they won the lottery.
But does any one else have this problem?
Yeah.
Wow.
I wonder if Al Gore is pleased to know that his invention has spawned discussion about Toilet GPS...
Happy New Year, by the way.
4 comments:
I can shit anywhere. Work, home, outhouse, a field, a stadium. I don't care. I'll pull my pants down and make it happen.
I can go anywhere anytime -- multiple times a day if needed. For some reason, anytime I'm driving on 95, my bowels always act up in Delaware.
While I can blow furious colon anywhere, I'm selective unless absolutely necessary.
Recall, if you will, that the Atlanta Omni had louvered doors on each safehouse stall within the hotel lavatory. Now, I seek such similar refuge when available. Nobody wants a turd burgler peering under the stall, throught the door jam, etc. If I learned nothing else whilst earning 17.5, it was the value of a private bm.
Lord and Taylor was blessed with goodwill testimonials earlier on this chain, but I've dropped quality bombs at Macy's and Saks with peace of mind. Forced to choose, I'd endorse Saks as the top department store bung dumpster.
Airports. Best stalls in the world. Well, SOME of them are.
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