I'm The Opposite

of styro. in that i never want to poop. it's that i need to poop. and for some reason, whenever i eat certain spring greens or the grilled chicken in the salads at both johnny's tavern or gert's grill, it's guaranteed gastric distress. now, i'm sure you are asking, "princess superstar, if you know you're gonna end up making a run on the loo, why doncha just order a burger?" the thought has crossed my mind people, believe me. i'm trying to be all healthy, but not sure it's worth it.

luckily both times i was in the restroom by myself. which if you actually read this blog, recognize a) the rareness (is that a word?) of this occurence, and b) the importance of privacy to me. someone who really gets this is marty cohen, whose posting "hold me now" is so right on the money. seriously. what is it with people who lounge in the bathroom like it's their living room? get back to work and hurry up about it. and sheesh--you really don't need to wash your hands for 15 minutes. if you're that concerned about germs, throw yourself in a bottle of purrell.

and lest you think this posting is gross, well, it's about to get worse. so, if you have a weak stomach, perhaps this is not the blog for you. what i really hate about the gastic distress is what dave chappelle refers to as "mud butt." thank goodness for clorox bleach. otherwise all my skivvies would be embarrassed. and me for them.

anyway, a big ole thank you to both styro and mincemeat vixen for making it okay and cool to talk about the exciting world of poo. i feel better already.