Sunday, June 05, 2016
Updates, Some Written On the Wall
I saw this picture inside a Port-O-Potty the other day. Hey, what do you call Port-O-Johns in your neck of the woods? I know a guy from St. Louis who informed me that everyone out there calls them Johnny On the Spots.
Back in the day you had to call for a good time. Now you just text. I don't think "Jenny (867-5309)" would have been a hit had Tommy Tutone been advising people to text Jenny for a good time. Come to think of it, why in the heck was that a hit to begin with?
Mrs. Noisewater is still pregnant with our first kiddo, and we're around 6 months along. I think this kid is hyperactive like me because he/she is kicking the bejesus out of her - right in the colon! I feel bad if I passed my AD/HD onto this poor little person. Or maybe he's just anxious to come out, and he's trying to kick his way out? Early would be fine, actually, because the poor girl is going to be pregnant as hell through the heart of a hot, muggy, Chicago summer. Come on out early, Star Scream! (That's a running joke between Mr. Shife and I)
I've been running around 10 miles every weekend. I did a little over 11 today, and I feel great. It's good to get back into running because it really does clear my head. There was a race going on, and I was trying to high five people when they were running in the opposite direction of me. Hardly anyone wanted any part of it. Strange. They all looked too worried about their times to get a high five. But I love a high five on race day. Different strokes, I suppose. Different strokes for boring folks.
I was at work the other day and asked a little kid what the crummiest thing to happen to him was all school year. He thought for a minute and decided it would be the day he got hit in the penis six times with a soccer ball. This is awesome for a number of reasons.
1. I love that he knew the exact number of instances.
2. Most kids would say they were hit in the balls, but he opted for penis.
3. I like that he didn't swear. He went with the biological term.
4. He had a slight lisp, so he said "penith."
See you later, Seven Readers. And may soccer balls be nowhere near your private parts.