10.17.01

I woke up this morning, as usual, on my stomach with my hand down my sweatpants. I got up, pooped out a healthy-looking 9-incher, and wrote out my grocery list. Here's what's on it:

Black bean soup (to help me poop better)

Lentil soup (to help me poop better)

Baked beans (see above)

Hot dog rolls (see below)

Hot dogs (to give me something to poop)

Broccoli (oh for crissakes, what do you think!!??)

Rice pudding (I'll never eat that)

Pretzels (for 2am when Im drunk and cant be trusted with the stove)

Razor blades (to shave my rogue hair patch)

Laundry detergent (to clean the poop stains out of my panties)

Light bulbs (Doutbful. This blond upstairs asked me if Id replace the burnt out bulb in the hall, but she's got a guy up there, so why doesn't he fucking do it?! Besides, I can't see how buying light bulbs will help me poop better)

While I was downing a glass of grapefruit juice mixed with psyllium husks (to help me poop better), the cable guy came to run a cable into my bedroom. He turned out to be probably the only guy on the planet who knew less about running a cable into my bedroom than me. But it was okay. He made up for it by standing in the middle of my living room, sniffing the air, and saying,

"Smells like you took a good healthy poop this morning."

We can all learn from this. To be perceptive of others, it goes a long way!! I was still standing there in my bedclothes, feeling sort of warm and sexy, my colon all empty, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to give him a blow-job. I mean, who wouldn't, right?

Anyway, after many amusing hijinks, a puppet show, and a surprise game of Twister, he left and now I have cable in my bedroom, I think, I don't know, he spent a lot of time banging around in the crapper.

Okay, time for my 11am herbal tea-and-soda cracker-enema (say it along with me, kids, to help me poop better). Hopefully, in spite of my instructions to the contrary, the tv has been hooked up in the crapper. I'll be there for the next 7 hours. CNN is on somewhere, I can hear it, unless it's the blond upstairs again pretending to be Wolf Blitzer. (Is Wolf Blitzer even on CNN?) and I have to find out if the city outside my window-the greatest city on the face of the earth--is still on the face of the earth.

Happy motoring!

Jack