Sunday, March 6, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Poop Happens...
A wise-retarded man once said, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get." Well, that's probably true if you grew up on the right side of the tracks where you actually got boxes of chocolates instead of stray dog poops on the bottom of your shoes. So to take from this wise retarded man's page and make it more how I grew up, "Life is like the shits we take. You never know what you are going to get, but whatever surprise you are left with, is usually indicative of what's happening in your life."
Poop happens man...and instead of flushing it down the toilet in an attempt to cover the fact that we do indeed shit like everyone else in this world, let us take the time to have a quick peek and realize our humanity and the epiphanies that may result of our poopies.
03/05/11
Dear Poop Diary,
I just moved back to CA from NY. I'm confused. Scared. Anxious. All over the map. All this is reflected in my stool. One day my Mr. Hanky is regular. The next, he looks like Mr. It. Another, like Slurpee. You get the hint. And the wonderful Picasso's that I usually leave on the toilet bowl, have now morphed into great big nothings. This is no bueno. I'm an artist. I need to be able to create. It's no wonder then that at the moment I can't create art in my regular life if I can't even do it on "my throne". Grrrr!
I hope I get my shit together soon and when I do, I'll know it...and on that day, my butt will breathe a sigh of much needed relief.
Respectfully,
Albee
Poop happens man...and instead of flushing it down the toilet in an attempt to cover the fact that we do indeed shit like everyone else in this world, let us take the time to have a quick peek and realize our humanity and the epiphanies that may result of our poopies.
03/05/11
Dear Poop Diary,
I just moved back to CA from NY. I'm confused. Scared. Anxious. All over the map. All this is reflected in my stool. One day my Mr. Hanky is regular. The next, he looks like Mr. It. Another, like Slurpee. You get the hint. And the wonderful Picasso's that I usually leave on the toilet bowl, have now morphed into great big nothings. This is no bueno. I'm an artist. I need to be able to create. It's no wonder then that at the moment I can't create art in my regular life if I can't even do it on "my throne". Grrrr!
I hope I get my shit together soon and when I do, I'll know it...and on that day, my butt will breathe a sigh of much needed relief.
Respectfully,
Albee
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