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.