Privacy … the Last Bastion

‘There are times when I still appreciate the feel of paper.’

FLASH … Over 60% of people confess they use their cell phone while they’re on the toilet.  The other 40% are probably lying.

Your cell phone’s already more contaminated from bacteria and viruses than you want to know about … and, that’s before you go in!

The emotional and the anal toll of using your cell phone while in the bathroom … though not quantified … are real.

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For many of us, the last bastion of privacy from the digital world is the bathroom.

It’s the place where you can “let it all go.”  You can “s**t or get off the pot.”  You can stink up the room and still think … “your s**t doesn’t stink.”

It’s the place where you can be alone and not feel guilty that you’re enjoying your “down time.”

Unless, of course, you’re clutching your demon-digital-device!

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Only if you’re a contortionist who can open the bathroom door … and have prehensile toes so you can flush the toilet and manage the faucets while wearing protective socks … will you avoid mega-contamination of your cell phone while using it in the bathroom.

Your cell phone’s an extension of your hand.  Remember that as you play Angry Birds perched on your throne … everything you’ve touched gets transferred to your phone.

One in six phones examined is contaminated with E.coli bacteria and that’s before you’ve entered the Petri dish of fecal aerosol particles, viruses and pathogens called “the bathroom.”

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The average time spent toileting has increased to 100+ minutes per week for men … women are in and out in a mere 80+ minutes per week.  As a result, there’s a new syndrome in town … I call it “Butt Drag Syndrome” … or BDS.

A big part of that time-on-task-increase is blamed on a load of multitasking while dumping.  You know … reading and grunting … gaming and farting … not to mention x-word puzzling and Iphoning.

God forbid we simply tend to our business.  31% of people have stayed on the toilet longer just to finish a social media task … while 44% have heard a toilet flush from the other end of a phone!

Consider the G-Force pull and tug to your cute butt thanks to gravitational pressure!

Gravity’s winnin’ every minute you’re not movin’ and groovin’!

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So, to avoid worry over who’s done what and where in that stall … and a saggy-baggy-bottom … keep your already unclean phone in your pocket.  And BTW, when’s the last time you cleaned your damn phone?

Just sayin’ …

Bored Bezos Goes on Shopping Spree!

Jeff Bezos, Amazon’s CEO and 3rd wealthiest global capitalist openly admitted that playing Trump-attack-dog with his newspaper toy, the Washington Post, has finally lost its allure and now he’s bored out of his gourd.

According to Bezos, Trump’s nothing but dumbed-down, low hanging rotten fruit for low brows.

“I want to play in a bigger well stocked to-hell-with-the-cost market.”

That’s why, in a surprise move, he’s agreed to pay a fire sale price of only 13.7 billion dollars – CASH! – for Whole Foods … that bastion of over priced, over packaged, over hyped food, beverage and beauty care products for the non-price conscious.

Bezos, an investor junkie, hopes he can mainline excitement via his Whole Foods acquisition.

To Bezos, Trump – who now spends all his time claiming he’s not being investigated but still wants to fire the investigator, is nothing but Fake Tiffany gold!

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The purchase of the incredibly snobby and boorish Whole Foods operation catapults Amazon’s food status to the Neiman Marcus level of retailing.

Bezos makes it clear … “I get goose bumps just thinking about our first Whole Foods Xmas catalog with a special centerfold … Whole Foods’ Surprise Once in a Lifetime Food Gift!”

Obviously offered with free shipping for Prime Members.

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Amazon shares immediately skyrocketed based on the Bezos-King-Midas-like decision … everything he touches turns to gold!

Future plans call for closing “all those architecturally tacky Whole Foods stores.”

The WF parking lots, all in “prime locations” – pun intended – will be the cornerstones of a country-wide Drone Port network for fresh and prepared food delivery … anywhere in the USA in less than 30 minutes.

“Expensive fast foods is an under developed market which we will dominate by 2019.  Our goal is to deposit elite office quality cuisine into every cubicle in America.

“Whether it’s Bangor, CA or Bangor, ME.”

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Imagine the impact on the psyches of all the droned-out workers in the US.

They slave all day on phones listening to raging customers … have to use kludgey outdated software on junkyard bound computers … and have no, zero, nada privacy.

But at lunch … they’ll be able to nosh on an Israeli sweet onion roll, slathered with Parisian hand whisked Dijonnaise, stuffed with wild Caspian Sea crispy flash fried oysters … delivered in minutes for only $17.99.

No delivery charge for Prime!

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Bezos also quickly corrected Fake News reports that Alexis misunderstood him when he asked her to buy him an enchilada from Whole Foods … but instead bought him – the whole enchilada!

Just sayin’ …

I Can See Clearly Now

The good news is, I can see clearly now from my right eye.  The other good news is that I’m told by experts in the eye fixing medical field, that my improved vision will not impact my writing abilities.

For some of you, that could be disappointing news.

The really good news is that I spent most of this past week on some weird local anesthetics, so I spent two days messing around with the top of my head and not finding the time to sit down and seriously and absurdly expound on the conditions of our world.

But … have no fear.  There’s always next week and the feeling’s returned to my hairy dome.

In the meantime, your assignment is to go back and re-read your favorite blog.  A test will be emailed to you once you’ve registered your favorite blog with me.

Peace … love … and go to Dairy Queen to claim your free cone … tell ‘em I sent you!

Land Ho … A Great American Land Grab

An unclaimed sliver of land is about to become the media center of world obsession.

If you ask Junior & Eric Trump … “Trump Tundra Ice-Golf & Spa … always on the move!” is perfect for a new Trump International investment.  They have yet to grasp that ice melts in water.  Damn science facts in their way again!

And keeping it “All in the Family,” President Trumplethinskin himself is chanting … “Make America Bigger Again … Make America Bigger Again!”

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In an unprecedented move, The Trump Organization, represented by that “Fab Duo,” Junior and Eric … petitioned the US State Department to take occupation of the Larsen C Ice Shelf when it separates from Antarctica.

Jumping at the opportunity for US expansion, President Thinskin, in a 3AM tweet, instructed Congress to immediately annex the Antarctic ice shelf as a US Territory … before it comes under the influence of Radical Islamic Terrorists … or even Russia.

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No single country owns Antarctica.  But no one thought that a frozen chunk … the size of Rhode Island … would break away from the continent.

Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, refused to comment on the J/E Trump request … even under his oft used alias.  But, State Department insiders revealed that he was overheard muttering, “What ever possessed me to say ‘yes’ to that f**king moron?”

The T-Rump sons are desperate to “make their bones” with their dad and get out from under his alleged small thumbs.  “Tundra Ice-Golf and Spa” seems like a money maker … to them!

As usual, Congress has yet to respond to the President’s tweet until he shows them evidence of ex-President Obama’s wiretapping.

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Unnamed sources, the only way to get news now, leaked that the President recently watched a Nat Geo rerun and was amazed to learn that seals loved ice and cold.

He thought they loved zoos.

Now, in place of his embattled Mexican Wall, he’s desperate to substitute a yuuge and bigly military training base for Navy Seal Team 6.

When the plan was revealed to DoD Secretary, James “Mad Dog” Mattis, a loud “WTF?” rumbled through the doors of his mega-secure office.

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Meanwhile muddying the international waters even more, US Intelligence leaked that Ruski troops are prepared to invade the mega ice cube the day it breaks from Antarctica.

Ownership of this largest source of cocktail ice is not clear to anyone … not even RE/MAX International.

Just sayin’ …

C-Span Ratings Irk Trumpelthinskin

Demonstrating that he’s capable of fighting wars on multiple fronts … think Streep Tweet War, Putin Hack War, Cabinet Confirmation War, Personal Lawsuit Wars, No DC Gown Wars … President-elect Trump now has C-Span (Congressional TV) in his sights.

He’s pissed about C-Span’s nonexistent TV ratings and is determined to “Make C-Span Great – Finally!”

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In fact, his China Trade connection, “Chairman Mayo” – a clever Mao body double and the only Chinaman T-Rump recognizes – has personally confirmed that China’s prepared to ship 62,979,636 hats to support his new C-Span campaign.

BTW … that’s one for each T-Rump voter.

In a 3 AM tweet T-Rump proclaimed: “THE WALL CAN WAIT! NATO SCHMATO! C-SPAN CAN’T- # MUST SAVE C-SPAN! NEW HATS ONLY $8 – PERFECT FOR VALENTINE’S DAY!”

According to sources, in his first 100 days T-Rump will empower Sean Hannidy of “Fake FOX News” to head a presidential task force – funded from hat sales minus costs to Trump Enterprises.

The Task Force’s comprised of noted B-list Hollywood movie moguls, actors, and valet parking attendants.

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T-Rump wants C-Span congressional floor debates to be introduced with specially written partisan political party fight songs performed by the singers and dancers used to kick-off NFL TV broadcast games.

Lights, smoke, thunderous-pounding music and lotsa hunky, sexy, bods, strutting  on stage provide the warm-up for these blood-debates.

Speakers appear in sequined satin suits … blue for Dem and red for GOP … displaying logos for their major donors and PACs.

A shirtless and buffed-up Bernie Sanders is promised as a special speaker.  Bernie Bros announced that he’s already training for the events.

Sanders tweeted … “I’m psyched! Can’t wait! Will make the GOP pay for the Damn Wall! Free college in 2020!”

Special on-line trash talking and “dissing” lessons are for speakers who want to “up their debate game.”

Expect to hear “Yoh mama” … “Shut yo punk a**, you Moh-Foh” … and “Your Mudder wears army boots” … that last one’s a throw-in for generationally challenged speakers.

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According to presidential consulting-advisor-caught-flatfooted-and-hamena-hamena-specialist, Kelleyanne Conway, “President-elect Trump is determined to boost C-Span ratings.  We’re the laughing stock of TV politics.”

T-Rump himself issued a final statement:

“Look at other countries.  Throwing chairs and having fist-fights in chambers.  That’s Reality Congress!

“Think Kevin Spacey – ‘House of Cards’ on steroids.  ‘Madam Secretary?’ … Can it.  Stunk up TV.  So unrealistic.

“We’re talking about Congressional Entertainment.  Boring?  Wrong!

“Reality C-Span … That’s what I’m talking about!”

Oh, my … Just sayin’ …

Joy to the Wallet

As I write this, there are 24 days, 13 hours, 12 minutes and 50 seconds left until Xmas.

we_usually_shop_at_home

Remember when we used to only track the “shopping days ‘til Xmas?”

No more.  Thanks to “Cyber Shopping,” now we count days, hours, minutes and seconds as we shop for Xmas 24-7.

C’mon Man … how much fun is it staring at your E-device instead of warming up with a Margarita or two, heading into town, parallel parking with bravado, sharp elbows popping other shoppers outta your way, tanking up on more Margaritas, telling the store wrapper to “skip the bow ‘cause you’re in a hurry,” looking for that one last gift that you think’ll be perfect … did I mention the barrels of essential Margaritas?

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This year, I decided to try my hand at … online shopping, a grand venture into the vast unknown of … “The Internet Economy!”

I randomly grabbed three print-catalogs that Xmas marketers jammed into our mail box.

“The Popcorn Factory” … “Sharper Image” … and “What on Earth, a collection of really cool stuff – over a 450 gifts under $20.”

Using these catalogs, I started my “on-the-line” spree.

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My motto – tackle the Big Dawg first!  I logged into “What on Earth.”  Hey, 450 items under $20 … that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

I e-searched and discovered there’s a lotta really worthless s**t for $20-$40.

But, the Superhero Apron Set – that caught my eye.  Wonder Woman, endowed with breasts that drove sex-crazed-teen-boys into a frenzy, and Captain America, with a built in codpiece crotch.  Yowzaa!

I could see my wife and I boogying in the kitchen, cooking up a storm, seducing each other in our hot-to-trot aprons … $24.95.

I rethought the aprons.  Not Happenin’!

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Next, I dove into the food arena via The Popcorn Factory.

I could tell right away this wasn’t Jiffy Pop over-the-stove-popcorn-s**t!

Let’s go whole hawg!  I zeroed-in on the popcorn tyranny-tower of Dancing Reindeer Tins.  Only $169.95.

Uh oh … the tower’d probably collapse from rot before we could snack through it!

Not Happenin’!

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Then I went Big Time … the Sharper Image – home of “Tomorrow’s Best Gifts Available Today!”

Who doesn’t want to have a “sharper image?”  I was hooked.

And here it is – a “Shoe Deodorizer!  A stand-up thingie that uses ultraviolet light that’s been “tested to kill harmful germs in a laboratory setting.”

OMG … wonder if it’ll work in the closet.  That’s kinda like a very unusual laboratory setting.

Gotta have it … only $139.99.

Hmmm.  I’ve never ever met anyone who sniffs shoes.  That’s a big Not Happenin’!

Guess I’ll just learn to love my somewhat-less-than-sharper-image.

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After a rigorous day of on-the-line shopping, I let out a deep breath and whispered to no one in particular but quite possibly everyone in general …

“Merry Xmas to all and to all a good night … I’m waitin’ ‘til the 24th to shop!”

Just sayin’ …

Just Released: Donald Trump Stars in “Nasty Woman”

Debates number one and two were packed with lots of good s**t … especially if you’re a poke-fun-at-anything-that-moves Blogger.

But that third one … what a gold mine.  A real monster lode.

And it was wrapped-up in bright orange flesh, skanky orange hair, and unbelievably bushy orange eyebrows.  The vein just kept on pumping out orangey-gold.

“Nasty Woman” … two little words whispered by T-Rump into his then working mic, while Clinton racked up her 3,438th debate point.

Why am I so excited?  Just follow me through the post debate spin cycle.

(Note: I have my own news source – HussNews.com … we promise you that nothing is verified, no opinions are based on logic or fact, and that the truth does not lie anywhere in-between, on, or within anything we report.)

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A new marketing slogan’s launched … Don’t stop with “This Nasty Woman Votes” bumper stickers … Hey, “Bad Hombre,” Let’s rock’n’roll with the entire taco!

Vera Wang’s already on it.

“The Nasty Woman” fashion line … Worn with pride by the “Pride of Lionesses Who Dare!”

“Nasty women unapologetically wear my clothes,” said a breathless Wang immediately following the third debate debacle while sketching on napkins, note paper, and anything else papyrus that she could grab.

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In a move of rare familial solidarity, Bill Clinton, in true Sarah Palin style, gave a shout-out to the lingering crowd, “Nasty my ass.  That fat orange Bastard ain’t seen nuttin’ yet!”

Chelsea, hugging mom post-debate, stage whispered for all the Fundits to hear, “You’re one Nasty-assed Woman.  I’m proud to call you my Mom.”

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Melania Trump tried to slink out but was overheard muttering as she dove headfirst into the T-Rumpcopter … “Just wait until that pasty faced orange blob gets home … never apologized, my ‘nasty ass.’

“I’m changing the locks as soon as I get home.  He’s, how do you Americans say it? ‘Toast!’”

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Meanwhile, Kelly Ann Conway, quivering like a jellyfish fought back her rage saying, “That F**ker’s absolutely ruined me.  “‘Nasty woman?’  That’s exactly what I told him NOT to say.

“I told that pussy, Bannon, clamp those metal clips on his small balls … not his arm pits.

“Christ, I’m surrounded by schlong waving Bozos.  What’s a woman to do?”

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Ivanka, flouncing her “T-Rump approved” ass past the press corps and Fundits, let it be known that she was headed back to Ivana’s penthouse … until the election’s over.

The ever clever Eric and Junior were high fiving and pointing loaded finger guns at each other.  After mock firing, they blew mock smoke from the barrels of their little’ish fingers.

One Fundit whispered, “S**t, sure wish they’d been loaded.”

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The s**t’s hit the fan … but then the GOP whiners have always been a lovely shade of brown’ish.

Just sayin’ …

Super Debate #1 … Party Plans

Just got back from Publix … with my stash for my Super Debate #1 Bash!

Been mentally prepping for weeks.  Lots of suspense … who’s gonna grab the Super Debate #1 ring?

debate-main-pageOn the kitchen counter I sort my stash into my basic food groups:  Alcohol … beer, wine (for my wife) and vodka.  Citrus … lemon and lime.  Orange colored cheesy stuff … Doritos Cheese Nachos and Cheetos.  Ice.  Got eats covered.

But people, specifically Trumpsters, are saying there’s something just not quite right about this debate.

Of course, Don the Con’s already whined that the moderator’s a “set up.”  The Con says he’s ready to have a serious discussion of the issues … like whether Hillary’s “sleeping her way to success.”

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So what’s the deal with holding Super Debate #1 at Hofstra University … a school that dropped football in 2009 and just resurrected its debate team in 2016?

Plus, this is the third … get it … third presidential debate that’s been held at Hofstra.  Obama vs McCaine … Obama vs Romney and now Clinton vs Trump.

Over 2500 colleges and universities in the country and we have held three debates at Hofstra?

Could Trump be right?  Is the system rigged?

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The run-up to this debate rivals promo for the Stupor Bowl.

TV ads are dead ringers for sports spots … harsh raspy voices barking hyperbolized adjectives at the listener.  Lights flashing.  Music drumming.  It’s “Countdown to Super Debate #1!”

Combatants’ photos reveal their most ferocious expressions.

Questions raised?  Which Donald incarnation will show up?  Will it be the “Tele-prompter-Barbie-like-quasi-Presidential Don?”  Or, the radioactive pulsating Donald?

Will Hillary attack trying to “get under Trump’s day-glow orange skin?”  Will she wear a dress and try to totally throw him off his game?

Just like the Stupor Bowl, we get daily reports about debate prep.  Who will play Trump for Hillary?  Godzilla?

Will Trump even prepare for the debates?  Does watching reruns of “The Apprentice” count?

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The bottom line … Super Debate #1 will be the most watched presidential debate.

It’ll reveal almost nothing about the candidates and their policies.

God bless Hillary … she’ll take the most simple recipe and turn it into an elaborate description for a seven course meal.

And Donald … well, he’ll just be The Donald, tell us nothing of substance and Fact Checkers will spend the next three days wondering what he said.

The most fun?  Watching post-debate analyses as the Fundits work themselves into lathered frenzies blathering about who won.

Just sayin’ …

To Floss or not to Floss?

That may be the question, but suddenly millions of us are chomping on our dental plates to know, “what’s the effing answer?”

Flossing-FingerAfter years of dire warnings, what do you mean there’s no evidence that daily flossing is beneficial?

I’ve wrestled with that crippling guilt of being an Intermittent Flosser, or “IFer,” long enough.

Unlike my practiced and earnest wife, I’ve never been able to “finish off” a box of Floss.  Mine always seemed to disappear into the Floss-zone long before I’d used it all up.

I’m tired of suffering from PTSD every five years when I visit the dentist’s office.

But apparently the dominatrix tyrant hygienist who’s so adept at making me feel guilty no longer has me in her choke hold.

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Dentist’s office … I’m in the chair … already sweaty and tense.  I’m rehearsing my answer to “THE QUESTION.”

The door swishes open.  My pulse sky rockets.

She sits down and commands, “Open wide.”

Here comes the bomb:  “Do you floss … reg-u-lar-ly?”

With a mouthful of some kind of “berry crap” and paraphernalia, I garble  “Yuhhuh … regraree armos erry dah.”

“Hmmm … we’ll see.”

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But this visit I’m locked and loaded.  I’ve read the research.  The scam is over.

O-V-E-R … Over!

I violate all dental protocols and sit up in the chair.  Mouth freed from the imprisoning instruments of dental hygiene, I spit before I’ve been granted permission.

Then I whip out my copy of the recent extensive Associated Press survey and calmly read:  “The majority of available studies fail to demonstrate that flossing is generally effective in plaque removal.”

“That’s true.  You can Google it yourself,” I announce and spit again.

Dead silence as a once sterile dental pick drops on the tray with a distinct clink.

I lie back down and quietly hum a few bars of “Born Free” … filled with a new found freedom having cast aside years of nylon stringed imprisonment.

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When I get home, I feel just a bit alone.  It’s like I’m missing an old friend.

I go into the bathroom and hold my Dental Floss in my hand.

“It’s ok little box of Floss.  I’ll still use you … just not everyday.  And I won’t feel guilty about it.”

I then take the six Floss containers I have stored for when I can’t find the one that I’ve been using, sit down at my computer, and Google “Creative ways to use Dental Floss.”

I get 997,000 entries in .70 seconds.  Who knew?

Just sayin’ …

Kurt Vonnegut … “I tell you, we’re here on earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.”

Aaah, Sweet Baby, Geezus.  I was thinking about the reality of living with someone in shared space colliding with our fantasies of relationships.

Fart all marriagesYou’re probably already sayin’, “Whoa back, Richard … there’s still time.  Get your meds … or some Vodka.

“You still share space with a really wonderful person.  Don’t blow it, you dumb s**t!”

Well as we say down South, “Mama din’t raise no fools.”

So if you want to walk on the edge of relationship building with me, you’ll just have to read some more.

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If you’re “married,” you exchanged some version of relationship vows.  You may have written your own.  Modified what was written hundreds of years earlier, or recited traditional vows.

Whatever the situation, lofty promises, expressing undying love and “forever-and-ever” living together were uttered.  Nowhere was it mentioned that living with another person wasn’t like the happily ever after life of the Princess and Prince of fairy tales.

We then launched a beautiful relationship on the rocky, pot holed pathway of reality.

And, by now you realize that the Princess I live with is not matched up with a Prince.

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Round One with the Un-Prince …

Thank the pagan god of toothpaste, “Hydroxyapatite,” that several years ago a major Un-Princely debate was eliminated when toothpaste tubes changed from a lead and tin alloy to space age “plastic.”

No more could I use the line, “Name me one person who doesn’t squeeze and roll from the bottom of the tube.”

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Round Two …

Multiple bathrooms in single family houses established real detante.  No longer sharing the bathroom with your Prince or Princess eliminated an “ugly stink.”

The words, “Honey, your s**t really stinks,” are no longer literal.

But if used euphemistically, they’re still grounds for the gauntlet thrown down, pistolas drawn, sabers unsheathed and the “s**t hitting the fan” … so to speak.

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The Final Round …

Yes, it’s all about reaching that age in our lives when we just can’t seem to control expelling gas from our nether regions.

It’s funny or silly when your pet farts.  It’s even entertaining with a bunch of drunk guys and no females in the room.

But, when your Prince or Princess farts … it’s never funny, silly or entertaining.  And, yes we all fart in spite of the avalanche of early motherly interventions.

But, this time it’s the pagan god “Propaneous” with his patented “Fart Blanket” who comes to our rescue.

And, folks, all I’ll tell you is … the “Sumb**ch” controls the “blowback” and you can get it on Amazon!

Just sayin’ …