Sweet Gummi Mary! You would think
that my fellow female faculty had been feasting on three-day old skunk roadkill
that had been bubbling in the sun before having its jellied remains scraped up
and marinated with a rotten durian in a clay pot buried under the manure pile
hosed off a hog barn floor to age for two weeks. Yum yum, gotta get you
some...if you want the fruit of your innards to make a statement in the faculty
women’s restroom of Newmentia.
Sure, I know a restroom is a place
for…um…ahem…RESTING! So I don’t turn up my dainty nose, gag, and shout,
“CHRIST! Did a cow shi crap in here?” when one of my cronies exits. No.
That would be stealing a line from Kentucky
Fried Movie. I recommend that you do not see it. Unless you are a
13-year-old boy. I do, however, recommend bringing your own air freshener to
leave on the back of a workplace toilet, perhaps encouraging others to spray.
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom herself does not
need to use air freshener, you know. Her gaseous emissions smell like
honeysuckle wrapped around a carnation wrapped round a rose. A lovely scent
that could be bottled or canned, and sold for profit. Perhaps on the counter of
a proposed handbasket factory!
Which brings us back to the Crisp
Water. I like that bouquet. I really, really like it. As much as people like
Sally Field. So much so, in fact, that only yesterday afternoon, when The Pony
joked that he went to the bathroom before we left school, and could have used
the Crisp Water, I told him…
“I
like that Crisp Water so much that it makes me want to poop!”
Yeah. He is. Most likely scarred for
life.
2 comments:
You DO know, don't you, that you can give it a little spray even if you aren't dropping a deuce?
Perhaps you could start using it like perfume?
Sioux,
"That's just wasteful!" As my German-descended grandma would have declared. while giving me a variety of perfumes to choose from, in their clever Avon bottles.
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