my sh*t don't stank...

Some crazy, crazy person actually bought something off of my hysterectomy party list. Seriously. But who would do such a nutty thing? Someone who understands the bowels of suffering through graduate school while working full-time. Someone who's sniffer has snuffed the foul results of merry-making at the world's longest buffets. Someone who cares that the putrid smell I make while "going potty" brings tears to my eyes and chases my dear cats far, far away from my loving arms. Yes, Marcia. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. Oh. My Nose! It is adorned. Thank you for turning my bathroom into a bakery. I can't wait to poo again!