So I walk into the bathroom at work and someone had just taken an unusually foul poo. Since I was little I always thought that if you smell someone else's shit, the noxious odor got into your body and would someday give you a disease. Call it fecal cancer or whatever. So whenever I walk into a bathroom, I hold my breath so I don't get this disease that I made up. I'm 42 now and I still do the same thing. I'm positive I'll get fecal cancer if I don't hold my breath. And it's really only strangers poo that causes it. That's my rule. Hey, it's my disease so I make the rules.

Speaking of crap, me and the wife have codes for different things. For instance, we were at a party once and there was only one very small half bath downstairs and that's where everyone was supposed to go and relieve themselves. This tiny bathroom is right off the dining room where the food was being served. So this guy named Fred decides he's going to take a big honking stinky in this tiny bathroom. I'm eating some chicken parm, I hear the toilet flush and out comes Fred with all his stink. I almost puked up the parm. So now, in our house, we have a tiny half bath downstairs. And we've made a rule: there is absolutely NO Fredding in the downstairs bath. This guy is now a verb.

Another code - Walt=booger. Me and the wife once temped at the same company. Our boss was named Walt and for the whole 6 months we worked there he had the same honkin' booger in his left nostril. Apparently, no one in his family saw it. Or at least they never told him about it. And neither did anyone at work. Day in and day out, he always had the same booger. So now, whenever either of us has a booger that we aren't aware of, we'll say, "Honey, uh, Walt". That means it's time to go somewhere private with a mirror and start picking your nose.

Happy Memorial Day!

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:17 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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