Thursday, January 20, 2005

"The Definition of TMI" or "Why The Monkey Should Fire Me"

It's not disloyal to express the things that bother you the most. Right?

Right! So, with no further ado, I present the horrifying truth, as seen through soap-scum covered shower doors.

It's early. Real early. But I've been up exercising, so I wasn't so sleep-crusted and groggy-eyed that I don't know what really happened. I was in the shower and beginning to lather myself in bacon when The Monkey came in for his morning pee.

I really, really hate this. Entirelly because of the smell. Morning pee is so pungent, it makes me want to run screaming for fresh air. The shower stall and it's accompanying steam only make the smell worse and linger longer.

Heh heh. Linger Longer.

Anyway. I made an EWWWW sound and The Monkey asked what the problem was. I told him that it smelled bad.


"What smells bad?"



"Your YOUR-RINE."


"You can smell that?"


"Honey, it's really gross."


"Well, I'm done. And I'm even going to wipe the pee off the floor."


And then he... wait. I need to switch to all caps.

AND THEN HE TAKES HIS BARE FOOT AND WIPES IT BACK AND FORTH ON THE FLOOR AND THEN LEAVES THE BATHROOM TRAILING YOUR-RINE DOWN THE HALL AND BACK. INTO. BED.

Does anyone out there want a new husband?

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