I live in a house with 6 other roommates, and 3 and 1/2 bathrooms. Lets break that down, that's 7 dudes, and 4 toilets. Toilet paper in our house has a higher monetary value than the dollar bill right now, true story. There was one point where there was one roll left in the entire house. So if you had to shit you had to run through the entire house like its the fucking Legends of the Hidden Temple, searching for "The Walking Stick of Harriet Tubman." That's a real one too, Wikipedia that shit.
So your running through the house with a Silver Snake about to come out, and you have to worry if one of the other roommates has to crap too. If another one does it's like running into a fucking Temple Guard, and you gotta barter with them so you can continue this magnificent quest of deification. You give him 2 Nattie Lights like there fucking Pendants of life. And you know your body is on a time limit too, I have never shit myself but I'm not going to lie, there have been some close calls. I've got the voices of Kirk Fogg and Olmec in my head taunting me that I'm not going to make it.
One time, I made it through every room, only to find an empty brown roll laying next to the toilet. I thought about it, but I didn't use it. I have more class than that. Instead, after I finished, I turned on the Shower and went Spread Eagle, or pulled apart my Purple Parrots so it fits my previous 90's Nickelodeon metaphor. If that story doesn't ruin your childhood memories, I don't know what will.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment