hello
This is a very sad post. Let me say my side of the story first, before John turns it into a tall turd tale. Here it goes: I made a comment that I hadn't gone cockasheda in 4 days upon entering the bathroom. After a poor attempt to eliminate I flushed down a 3" cockie. Then the worst of worsts happened to me. The badwater rose up rather than down and overflowed there toiletbowl area. I flipped the lid down before the boulder poured out and screamed. This is everyone's nightmare, real movie material.
I ran outside shutting the door on John Paul, who then started to cry and hated me for 10 minutes. Ran into the kitchen and cried to John, being clueless of how to rectify, for lack of a better word, the situation. Well, he went in there and was a real trouper... poo poo all gone.
Unfortunately I'm still blushing so bad that I can be mistaken for a human-lobster hybrid.
I'm very sorry John. This one's for you, John the King of Johns.
Love,
Marlena PS: Reader beware: Don't believe a word he says.