Taped in Front of an Live Audience
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I fondly remember the days of vast open expanses. Where one could stretch out. Where one was able to move about freely. Where one was not worried about farting and giving oneself a concussion.
Yes this whole entry is one long fart joke, but at the same time – its not. I’m not too tall of a guy at 6’1”, but when one sits upon his toilet, he should not have to have his knees pressed up against the wall. And no I was not doing some odd Belgium Reverse Stool with a Half Gainer Poop on the Rebound trick. At CheckPoint the tile wall is, at most, two inches from my knees when I sit. Two inches. That’s smaller than the length of my pinkie, smaller than the shit that I’m taking. Two inches is what most people want to loose from they’re waistline. If I had two more inches on my waistline I would not be able to sit on the throne.
Now the kicker of this whole bit, is in our hotel at Rothenburg, the bathroom was so undersized that it felt like a dollhouse. As a guy you had to stand in the shower to piss in the toilet. While your there, you might as well turn on the shower, freshen up a bit. The act of defecation was a skit gone amuck. First off you close the door, unlatch your belt, go to turn around, the door pops open. You hold your belt, close the door, go to sit down, pop open the door. Close the door, sigh, pop open the door. Scream at the door, close it, release the hounds, door flies off the hinges, your woman laughs at you. You tell her to go to hell, and then proceed to fall off the toilet into the hallway. Where the laughtrack falls into applause. Fade to commercial.
Fade up commercial. "There was a time when a man could be alone in the bathroom. Dem was da daze..."
posted by Don Taylor @ 8:03 PM,
