Choices

I love bathrooms. Preferably clean ones with jacuzzis,but I'm not überpicky about the jacuzzi. The bathrooms is the one room in the digz that fulfills all my basic human needs. Other than the obvious,bathroom duty (doody! Hehe) releases endorphins that quite frankly are only comparable to orgasm,particularly if we're talking after a long-ass road trip. You fulfill social needs as you toilet tweet. Literary needs are covered when you're reading magazines on the john (so sad that someone's name is a euphemism for perching on the stinker. Among other things). Plus,there's that unbeatable alone time. Most people aren't rude enough to make you leave the lav or work on a time card. Unless you're related.

Marriage isn't necessarily one of those things that I'm planning to do,but if I was,twetiquette would be very important to me. I'm not going to move in with just anyone,especially anyone who leaves the seat up (dead horse,that) or leaves a box of tissue on the roll,and doesn't feel obligated to put another roll on. This is why I support come-we-risk ninininis. I can't possibly know all your flaws unless I live with you. For all I know,you may be hiding a Will Ferrel obsession,and I can't have that.

But what about those things that are filed under irreconcilable differences? Those things that twetiquette classes can't change or reverse? Like let's say you're dating someone who comes to family weddings and rescues you from overenthusiastic men and everything's good until you realize he wants tiny versions of him afoot and you have absolutely no intention of procreating anyone's lineage...compromise is all well and good,but you can't exactly have half a child,can you?

Hm.

tSN

ps. I really hate it when reggae artists take any song and just put a reggae beat on it like all songs are meant to be reggae. ESPECIALLY when it doesn't flow. UGH.

P.p.s. If you sprinkle when you tinkle,be a sweetie. Wipe the seatie.