If Only I'd Been 16 and Pregnant....: The Bathroom

Dear Ryan Seacrest,

I need my own tv show. It's not so much a want, more a need. For both of us.

A bit about me: I am a typical 9 to 5'er (correction 9 to 6'er, that whole "9 to 5 bit" is a major falsity, I'll write to whoever started that lie later), who feels my talents would be better served in front of the camera of my own half hour (could be an hour if the editing was done right) television show. I am willing to do almost anything on my show (well except maybe bite the head off of a pigeon a la Ozzy Osbourne, but definitely don a unitard and walk the streets of Los Angeles with a midget a la Chelsea Handler - I love love love miniatures, but that's a separate letter). I am also great with people and can chase them down in 5 inch heels if necessary (don't ask). I think alcohol is 50% of the food pyramid and carbs should be the other 50. I used to be so ugly I had to sneak up on water to get a drink. I have a dating history that rivals "Another World" (RIP). I can also have an entire conversation with an answering machine or any other inanimate object.

Call me.

P.S: I don't eat meat.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The Bathroom

I'm never quite sure how to respond when I go to the bathroom and hear someone in the stall next to me farting it up. Like clearly they're having an issue. Then when they come out and we end up next to each other washing our hands and I find out who the culprit is my first instinct is to say "umm, are you ok? That sounded like something right out of the zoo?".

Instead I just avert my eyes and forever look at them as the pooper pounder.