In other words, Madge was right

So today we did a craft fair. It was a bust.

Except for Larry the Camel. He was pretty cool and Madgette got to ride him, which was the bees knees y'all.

See. Doesn't Larry look like the type of dude you'd like to maybe kick back and have a beer with?

Anyway so Madge has several rules for life, most of which have merit. And Madge is unyielding when it comes to her rules. She's a principal and rules are kind of her thing.

Rule Number 11: If There's Something Cool To Take A Ride On Do It. (Includes hot air balloons, elephants, slides, camels, etc.)

Most of her rules i am in 100 percent agreement with. Like riding elephant - yes, please. But I must admit, until today I disagreed with Rule Number 36: NEVER use Port-a-Potties.

I mean, okay, they are not ideal. But some times you may have no other choice, right? No. According to Madge it's more acceptable to drop pants in the bushes than ever enter That Which Is Forbidden. She would wet herself before darkening the doorstep of a Port-a-Pot.

Well today I had to GO and my famously tiny bladder was demanding release. So I -- not one to pee in shrubs -- did what I had to do.

Now I noticed something about these particular "temporary facilites" -- they were perched on a steep embankment and the two on the most angled side were leaning like a mofo. So I thought I shall take the "safe" route and use the upright, nontilted one.

This is when God giggled.

No sooner than I had dropped drawers did that "safe" pod start banging around like a screen door in a hurricane. Y'all I really can't stress this enough. That deathtrap was teetering like a drunk tightrope walker balancing on fishing line. At one point I considered bailing out like a fighter pilot hitting the ejection button. It was awful and horrifying.

Now I don't know if you have ever thought about dying, or how'd you'd like to go out, but from experience I can tell you that you don't want it to because you were the victim of a Port-a-Pot landslide.

You don't want your obituary to reference rescue efforts related to waste management. And even more importantly you don't want to have your last act on this earth to be a failed attempt to pull your underwear and pants up before tumbling down an embankment in a poop coop. Because the only thing more horrible than dying in a rare toilet accident is having your crap-covered, half-naked, limp body pulled from a pile of mangled excrement and plastic.

I'm talking about Rule Number 36, people. Live by it.

This public service announcement brought you by PAPAP (People Against Port-a-Pots.


-- Post From My iPhone