or What's Wrong With Your Shitz, Yo?
warning: gross potty-talk abounds. Literally. Enter at your own risk.
Okay, so surely I'm not the only one who checks out the contents left in the bowl after doing my bathroom bidnez.
I am? No one's going to fess up? Really? I'm the only aberrant one.
You're all a bunch of fucking liars.
And don't call me Shirley. That's right. Uh-huh. I just got all 1980s Airplane on your ass.
Anywho, this morning I drained the dragon, so to speak, stood up, look down to peruse the contents therein (admit it, people! you do it too.) and was horrified. Instead of the usual varying shades of yellow, my stream was ... pink.
I shit you not.
That comes later...
Geo was standing next to me, because we have one bathroom and no children so there's never a need to A) close the door and B) have privacy when we're home together because, honestly (and I am nothing but honest on this Bloggity Blog Blah much to Geo's dismay), we've been married a looooooooooooooooong time and you just get over that privacy shit, literally and figuratively.
What? Don't be judgy. It's unattractive and gives you deep creases in your face, and then you'll have to buy face putty to look less like the Crypt Keeper and then you'll be broke and bitchy because that stuff's expensive, yo.
|may I interest you in|
some facial products
you look like death
But I digress...
So Geo's standing next to me and we're both thinking that maybe my bladder just fell out. But I don't see it swimming around.
What. The. EF?!?
And then I remembered I was starving late last night because I'm the worst caretaker of my own person when I'm on vacation and ate a pile of roasted red beats. Clearly they have magical properties to dye your insides the color of a beating heart freshly yanked from your nemesis neighbor's chest cavity by a drooling Zombie.
So, Whew! That nightmare's over, right? No extruded body parts this morning, just a little food coloring. Literally. (Three "literallys" in one post. New annoyance record. Woot!) Until I dropped a couple kids off at the lake, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.
It started with the wipe.
It was deep red.
Now I knew I hadn't shoved anything untoward in the out door. Not that I have in the past. I would never do that, EVER. That is GROSS!!! And if you do that sort of product placement, I don't even want to know you. Seriously.
Aaaaaanyway, you know I was going to check out THAT deposit. And Lordy LORD! It was almost as horrific a sight as this:
Seriously, what is up with this chick?
she's probably only 30
Nope. No spontaneous colorectal release today, just beets. Bloody beets. Thank you, Baby Jesus.
I have no clever way to end this turd of a posting. And that last line just proves it. If you must, please eat beets responsibly. Or at least don't peak afterward. The more you know.