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A new entry for the improv book

I read this article and immediately wanted to blog. I wanted to think of something funny and clever to say about it, but that just couldn’t happen. I mean, there is no way to top a story about a woman who grows onto her toilet. What could I say to make this story any more ridiculous?

I could spice it up by mentioning that it wasn’t even her own toilet. Or that she had sat there for two years. Or that she just wanted to be left there until she felt like leaving. Or that the medical team had to pry the seat off the toilet and leave it attached to her until they got to the hospital. Or that they blame it on her difficult childhood. Or that it happened in some rural Kansas town and became the big news in the city.

But all of that is already in the story. I suppose I just have one question.

OK, I’m single. I admit that at the outset, acknowledging my lack of understanding regarding romantic relationships. But how exactly do you end up as the boyfriend in this situation?

So many things should have prevented this. Like, how did it start? They’re both sitting there watching Lost and she excuses herself. By the end of the episode, he realizes she’s been occupied a rather long while, but doesn’t want to be rude and say anything, so he goes about his business—cleaning up, washing dishes. How long did he ponder the situation before going to check on her, and getting the response, “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a little while”?

How late did he stay up waiting for her to emerge? At some point he had to go to bed, no doubt mentioning discreetly through the long-closed door the circumstances necessitating his action.

Next morning, and the door’s still closed. Same awkward explanation of his behavior as he heads off to work. No doubt he was a little distracted from his work, but walked into his house confident that normalcy was restored. And the door was still closed.

At some point, he had to start taking her food.

At some point, his excuses for why he didn’t have a girlfriend with him when he went out stopped being necessary.

At some point, she became furniture.

Officially the worst first date ever.


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1 Comment

this has to be one of the funniest/grossest things I’ve read in a long time. Thanks for taking the time to insert horrible mental pictures in my mind.

March 14, 2008 (10:26 pm)
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