We're creatures of habit ... creatures of comfort.
You know how you get used to stuff? Little things that make life nice for you ... things you're used to ... stuff you come to expect ... preferences ... you're own little quirks and kinks which keep you calm, cool and collected?
Well, I'm no different. I'm just like you. I have my likes and my dislikes. I prefer my creamer poured into my coffee cup before my coffee ... I shave before I shower ... I fold my shirts a certain way for a reason ... 'Hokay!' is a real word in my book.
And I prefer lots of things hard. I don't like Three Musketeers candy bars. (That gooey soft center is yucky.) My mattress? Make it firm. Chunky peanut butter with lots of crunch, please ... not that wimpy smooth stuff.
And my toilet seat needs to be hard; no soft, foamy cushion for this tush.
But that changed a few days ago. You see, I recently moved out of my house and I am now the guest of friends. And I couldn't ask for more hospitable hosts than the folks I'm with currently.
However ... their bungalow, where I'm currently residing? The restroom toilet seat therein houses one of those foamy, collapsing rings that 'settles' when you sit on it. It feels like your ass is being sucked into the toilet. It's as if the ring is alive. When you sit on it, you feel as if you're slowly sinking into the bowl.
Which naturally spurs the imagination: What it really feels like is that there are Pod People in the toilet and they're trying to suck me into their underground lair, ass first. (All right - so maybe it doesn't spur your imagination as much as it does mine ...)
Rather the frightening thought, not to mention the frightening feeling, right? If you'ven't ever had the 'pleasure' of a cushy toilet seat (and, for the life of me, I have no clue who would), then riddle me this: What would you think if you sat on the pot and suddenly felt as if you were being sucked into its porcelain confines? Creeped out, that's what! It's like Pod People are sucking at your ass ... with the rest of your body to inevitably follow!
Hey, Pod People! There's nothing there you want! Really! It's just ass! Nothing more! You seriously don't want to go there! Trust me! Besides, I always thought it was our minds you wanted to possess ... to turn us into your zombific minions and commit your foul deeds! Right? If that's truly the case, you're working the wrong end of our bodies and you need to head north. You're starting from the bottom of our top and that route is going to take you that much longer to accomplish your dastardly deeds!
Not to mention (and most importantly of all): It's an 'exit', not an 'entrance'! If you want to get at us, that's the wrong orifice! You start violating our derrieres and you'll just have us screaming frantically and ruining any chance you might have in taking total control of us.
Bottom line: Our asses aren't the way to go.
I know ... I know: You Pod People are not of this earth, but believe you me: The majority of us will confirm the fact the ass is not the way to go.
And, while I'm certain the creators of the cushy toilet seat had initial good intentions, I'm not on board with the whole comfort thing when it comes to 'visiting the library'. Get in, get out, get done.
Give me cool, slick, hard ovalness anytime.
And keep the Pod People out of my ass.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
The Pod People Want My Ass
........................ Ruprecht ( STOP )