Scotty 2 Hotty and the 3 Ply Nightmare

Firstly, I'm sorry about not posting recently. I'm ass deep in papers and with EQII comming out today, and the end of GTA: San Andreas in sight, video games are getting my priority time, then papers, sadly blogging almost becomes an afterthought. But I did say 'almost' hence the post.

Anycrap, usually I write about what's been up with me lately. And well this week what's been up has actually been crap. You see there's this ad campagin by Charmin. They use these bears that crap in the woods. Which conveniently answers the question of where a bear craps. But these bears are sophisticated, they go the extra mile. That's right the bears use TP. Not only do they use it, when they do the camera pans up and there's these wavy lines going out from their heads. Ruling out Spider Sense, his head being rediculously hot, or a bad smell comming off it (although that's not so far fetched considering the bear just took a dump) thoes lines must mean pleasure.

So I think, if a bear can derive so much happiness from wiping it's ass in the forest with this stuff, just think how much better it would be on a toilet instead of sitting on the ground leaning against a tree. Which begs the question, where does the poo go? Is THAT why they need so much TP? Some kind of fur cleaning fiasco? Well all this is beside the point but one little snippet of corporate jingle. Here it is verbatim: "what you thought was enough, might be too much." Damn straight. Using no more than the usual amount, somehow my toilet had a clog that would put the arterial clogs of Arkansas to shame.

Naturally I didn't realize this until my hands were nice and soapy. I looked over and let out a yell that should have shattered the porcelin. My soapy hands frantically flipped out in every direction turning on lights, struggling to open the door, I kicked the book I was reading out the doorway and into the dryer. Then cut the water right as it was the same level as the rim. I sat in the bathtub and caught my breath. Someone should start an exercize program that consists solely of going to someplace you don't want an overflowing toilet in, and noticing it too late.

After I recovered from my 32 seconds of soapy, screaming, over-flow preventing madness, I realized that no amount of coat hanger solutions were going to fix this. I needed a plunger. So I went out to buy one. How in the blue hell I managed to go 1 year and 3 months without a plunger is beyond me. I guess it's the run for the border I made earlier in the day. But sadly, it was 10 o'clock and Springfield closes at 9. So, after going to three other places I finally found some designer plunger at Target. It took quite a lot of plunging to fix that mess. Apparently digested Taco Bell = Toilet Spackle.

So that, EQII, papers, and GTA:SA have been gobbling up my time like Star Jones at a free buffet. But I'll still try to post at least twice more this week. Later for now - Scott