Icky Stuff

Gross things we all do but no one will admit.

Today’s Poop Lesson

I hate my toilet. If I … you know … and it takes more than one wipe, the toilet always stops up.  And my plunger sucks.

See what it does there?  It wrinkled up and I either have to wait for it to pop back open or wedge it under the toilet rim to manually unpop it.  Meantime, the toilet begins to run over.  This is not icky stuff that makes me happy. It’s just icky.

The icky-happy part of this post is the “J” poop.  I learned this weekend that the J-poop was named by my grandmother who passed away when I was about 7 years old.  I remember her kindly, so hearing that she coined the phrase “I pooped a ‘J'” is a little bit surprising!  The J-poop is the one that comes out shaped like a J. It’s a sign of good health that your food can digest so perfectly. And it’s a J!!!

We should all be pooping J’s after yesterday’s Thanksgiving feasts.

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Lame Food

I like playing with my food. I made a turkey vegetable tray yesterday.  This is how it was supposed to look:

Or this:

This is how it actually looked:

Ha! I like mine too!

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Gruff But Loveable

Conversation driving to parents’ house when I touched husband’s arm:

“You’d better not. I’m this close to forgiving you.”

“Forgiving me for what?”

“For being an asshole.”


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May I Recommend: Cake Wrecks

My friends and I are going to start a company called Shit Cakes: For When You Have to Bring a Cake for Someone You Hate.  This is pretty good inspiration!

Cake Wrecks

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May I Recommend: Shit My Kids Ruined

Oh yes. This so much!

Shit My Kids Ruined

(Not my kids, but a picture from the site. Rest assured, though, that my kids have ruined plenty of things. My patience. A nice mattress now covered with graffiti. My patience. My clean house.)

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Helping with Zits

I do not like having my own zits and I have been lucky to have had surprisingly few in my life. However, I love it when my family has one they need help with.  I’ll get the bottle of peroxide or rubbing alcohol, sterilize a needle, get a handful of toilet paper, and get to work. Squeeze, dab. Squeeze more. Dab.

It’s especially good when my gruff but lovable husband says, “Ouch! Dammit that hurt!”


Head Scabs

I get dandruff.  I scratch it. Sometimes I’ll have some other mysterious bump on my head that I scratch.  Then I scratch it too much.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll keep picking at it because it has become enjoyable. Why?  After I pick off the hard part, I’ll press the tip of my finger where the scab used to be. Then I pinch my finger and thumb together so it sticks a little.

There always comes a time when you have to stop, though. No blood.

And always always wash your hands after picking.

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Crack Tickles

Gas. We all have it. You can purse your lips all you want, but truth said everyone passes gas – and most do it several times every day!  Yes, you can reduce the number of times the spider barks, you can possibly diminish the smell of the brick you spit, but you will fart.

The worst farts – for me – are those that attack while in the morning shower. You are trapped in the small space with the awful odor and the odor has but one direction to travel and that is straight up to your nose.  The other bad ones? The warms ones that travel up your butt crack and tickle your cheeks.

Good reading: The Anatomy of a Fart.

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