I wasn’t expecting to get blindsided and trashed. Yes, I was in the bad side of town. I live in the bad side of town. What was I to do? Go sleep in my car in a more chichi part of town. I don’t think so.
It comes down to: he
says, it says. He being me. It being a toilet possessed by the devil.
My story is that I was
peacefully urinating into a receptacle that was designed for that purpose. The
demon-possessed piece of porcelain then reached up and slapped me across the
face with its seat. And then it stomped on my big toe.
That's my story and
I'm sticking to it!
1 comment:
I think I recall Dad getting into an argument with a toilet too. Seems he broke a tooth?
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