2001-07-19
Dear Diary:

I think we can agree that when it comes to bowel movements, it's basically a deal of seen one ya pretty much seen them all.

I mean it's not like clouds where you can study them and see shapes that look like everything from angel's hair to ice cream castles in the air ... nope, if you glance at all at your more solid calls of nature you're looking at Variations On The Log.

I mean you have the long and short of it, and occasionally you might get something such as Log Studded With Corn Bits, but, well, basically there's a theme happening there.

So tonight I get one of those calls you don't refuse, and just as I'm about to toss the used toilet paper in with tonight's toilet offering the colour catches my eye. It's red. A deep burgundy red such as you see with cooked kidney beans.

I immediately freak out and in my head I'm screaming, "BOWEL CANCER" because blood in your stool is one of the signs of that. You know that scene in Home Alone where Maccaulley Culkin is running down the hall, waving his arms and screaming? Well, I'm doing the equivalent of that in my head.

And then it hits me what it's all about and I start laughing hysterically.

Now many things happen in our bathroom, but fits of gut splitting laughter aren't one of them, so the spousal unit taps on the door enquiring into my general state.

I describe The Wondrous Burgundy Turd and invite him in to see this marvel. There is a pause and he says, "Even WE haven't been married long enough to be at THAT level of sharing" and then I hear departing footsteps.

Fine. His loss, eh.

See, what had happened was today I had lunch with my buddy Eddie. Somehow, he convinced me, The Woman Who Dislikes Beets, to order a double helping of beets because They Are Extremely Good For You. I am soooooo about peer pressure. I somehow choked down the mass quantities of the loathesome vegetable and, well ...

There Were Consequences.

Let that be a lesson to you all.

Exactly what kind of lesson I leave to your discretion.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.