I am afraid of my toilet. This irrational fear only grips me late at night, when everyone else in the house is slumbering and I am working well into the wee hours, flailing away at the keyboard and alternately staring at the nudie NYFD firefighters calendar my sweet daughter gave me for Christmas. Because she knows I have a thing for the firefighters going on. Anyway. I drink a lot of water and tea and too much Diet Coke and so of course, I must trip to the loo, but it never fails to occur to me as I sit there all naked from the waist down and vulnerable, that something is going to bite me. On my hienie. In my warped mind I see huge fangs coming up from the deep waters of the pottie, poised to sink into my ass. Or worse, Freddie Kruger-like talons sinking into my bare naked bottom. I try to avoid the pottie thing at night whenever possible.
4 comments:
You need to dig up an ancient National Lampoon article titled Pruzie's Pot. It'll make you think quite differently about the toilet, and if GITB reads it, will fill his heart with fear.
Enjoy!
Clearly, you live in Florida. I have never thought anything in my toilet might get me. But then again, I live in the Pacific Northwest where the worst thing that can happen is a tree can fall on my house during a windstorm. No alligators or snakes in these here parts!
you're not helping me. Nota one of youse guys.
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