Thing the first:

A few weeks ago, in desperation for something new to read, I checked Altared out from the library. It's a collection of essays on marriage and being a bride and planning weddings and it looked like it might have some funny stuff in its pages. I was lying in bed last night and reading a particularly poignant passage about how most of the people who cry at weddings are people who are already married. The writer was positing that they cry because they start to think about their own marriages and what an immense thing it is to commit yourself so fully to another person. To be honest, I was getting a little overwhelmed just reading the passage when, from the bathroom came a noise that sounded roughly like this:

"FAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

EAAAAAAAARRRRR…BLURGHGBGBGBGBGBGBGBG"

Is there a way to spell phonetically the sound one makes when a sphincter becomes so active that you can hear each movement it makes from another room?

To say that it took something away from the effect the books words were having on me is something of an understatement.

Thing the second:

Later, after said sphincter had apparently recovered…

"ARRRGGHHH! You did this on purpose!"

"I did what on purpose?"

"You left the IKEA catalog in the bathroom!"

"………that's a bad thing?"

"Yes! Because you knew I'd open it out of curiosity and now I can't stop looking through it!"

August 13th, 2008 Posted in Scenes from My Apartment | Comments (1)