I am safely ensconced in my hotel in yet another city not to be named, but on the way here from the airport I stopped at a Publix in order to procure the items I’ll need for my stay. You know, beef jerky, microwaveable oatmeal, Dinty Moore Beef Stew, and the like.
At Publix, I found myself in need of the restroom. Number One, thank God, not Number Two. Nevertheless, the configuration of the restroom had a single urinal sandwiched between two stalls, in a very narrow space. To my horror, it was almost impossible not to have the tip of one of my Oxfords encroach on one of the stalls…and both stalls were occupied.
That was one uncomfortable piss, let me tell you. One that wouldn’t have been necessarily so had the toe-tapping antics of one U.S. Senator not imprinted themselves indelibly upon my delicate brain cells.
So damn you, Larry Craig. Damn you to hell.
Filed under: Personal, Politics, Republicans
That’s funny! You could probably make some extra $$$ during this writer’s strike.
Thanks.
I seem to be getting the tour-of-places-I-really-don’t-want-to-be this week. Have to get up at the ungodly hour of 4:30AM tomorrow to catch a plane to Boston. It’s going to bother me to death if I can’t figure out which security gate Atta and company went through on 9/11 — For some reason, I really don’t want to go through that one.
Women are quite used to this kind of thing happening. It often leads to an inter-stall discussion about “Gee, I love your shoes, where did you get them?”
Craig should’ve played up that angle.
I never poop anywhere but on the home throne. I’ll pee anywhere though. Gotta mark your territory.