Monday, January 25

party-pooper.

what do you doo-doo duders know about doo-doo?
i'm learning a lot...
dual-flush, for the ones and twos;
oval v.s. round holes, tiny heinies and cheeks for weeks;
chair height refers to handicapable seating.
there are a great many factors i need to know about.
you guessed it:
i'm getting a new toilet.
and i am not getting one of those feel-goodery,
'green' weak-sauce waterbaby low-flush ones.
save that for the suburban moms, ya'll.
i'm not buyin' it. literally or figuratively.
seriously, my ninjas,
i can't justify a mincy little winky-mouth potty chair,
they don't go anywhere even remotely near eleven...
..and because i have a lot of hefty friends.
...and some vegan log-jammers, too.
that equates to some heavy-duty spackle and grout.
and i'm just sayin':
flushin' three times to remove all traces
of a dirty two-tone beige barbarian grumper?
that is just not cool.
i want a power-packed whirlpool of excrement eradication.
charybdis, in miniature, in a polluted porcelain ocean.
nep-tune-ups, clash of the titans style.
that's on that leave no trace-type sh!t.
only, not the hippie nancyboy version.
oil-rubbed bronze, kids.
that's that victorian heritage finish.
i already pre-emptively purchased an after-market flush lever.
my jauns have got to match up, y'heard?
incidentally,
who buys a black toilet?
c'mon.
unless you're a movie cliche or a real-life mobster,
there's no need to drop down on an ebony throne.
that's too tacky to be believed, almost.
what next?
a sculptural black panther pedestal sink?
we're hopefully keeping ours classy.
plain, clean white.
none of that beige/eggshell/bisque crap.
that's forty years too old school for my A*.
i don't want a cream colored anything, ya'll.
that's the truth.
***********
tomorrow is the big day for big fun;
cleaning out our storage space!
getting cars inspected!!
buying the toilet!!!
some guys have all the luck,
and some guys have all the fun.
some other other 'nother guys, however,
have a real deal woodsly Folk Life.
those are the moths amongst the butterflies.
duders who just doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
doing what we do, my ninjas.
infinite natures,
myriad situations,
predictable outcomes.
give a berserker some rage,
and he'll flip out for a day,
give him a raging stormswept savage gyspsy toilet,
and he'll flip his sh!t for a lifetime.
all this bathroom worry isn't affecting my bathroom humor.
that's something at least.
it's hard work learning about all this stuff.
it puts the toil in toilet.
word up.
the pipes aren't banging like in 'the goonies' just yet,
probably because down here,
it's our time...
never quiet, never soft.....

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