Fun with Dooty

"Dooty."

Heh. I said Dooty. This little laugh brought to you by my new shining light in the pop-culture abyss... Gir!! I have much love to extrapolate for Gir, but I'll save it for another post.


So you remember back in the day when I recalled my tale of being held hostage in my company stall? Well, I've come to the conclusion that I'm no walk in the park either, bathroom wise. In fact, I'd venture a guess that I'm far from being the perfect stall mate that you'd want to have a stall next to once that bad decision known as the 3 pm cup of coffee decides to mass exodus your system. After what just happened, I'd venture you'd rather hold that 3 pm cup of coffee in your system until you get home instead of hold court next to the stall I'm in. And for that, I am truly sorry.

But it wasn't my fault. I didn't realize the cheese sandwich I had for lunch was going to lead to three acts of Pooter Theatre when I sat down on the seat. It just kinda happened. And I tried to hold it until after you left, but apparently my body had other plans. And yes, I'm well aware that you did not want to know that farts in that bathroom echo and echo well. I didn't want to know it either and I'm still trying to stop blushing from knowing it. And if I wasn't so embarrassed to make eye contact with you, I'd apologize. So can we both just forget this ever happened and get on with our day? Please?