I quit smoking today.
I feel better than I have in years already. (Even if it is just in my head).

We are here because obviously we all love to tell stories. So lets do just that. Tell me something embarrassing that happened to you! I know this is closely related to the RL peeves/things I like threads - but these can be of a more comical nature! And because I like to make people laugh, I will get us started. Warning: cringe, gross.

PINK TORNADO: A TRUE STORY

My husband, a good friend of mine, and I went out to eat at Wimpy one day. That's a British burger chain that we have here in South Africa. Think McDonalds, but with a little bit more class.

I had a bacon and avo burger, coke, chips/fries, and a huge bubble gum pink strawberry shake. I have never had a strawberry shake before but either I was feeling cheeky or they didn't have chocolate.

That's important, remember that.

We didn't really know what to do next, but we decided after some maximum pleading by my friend to go down to the beach front where they have a carnival type thing set up. You know the drill. Rides, corn dogs, funnel cakes, games, prizes.

We got our tickets (only a few, enough for like an hour of rides and bullshit max) and we start out with the craziest ride they have. It was fine. Then we went on three more.

They were fine except I was feeling really full still and nothing was sitting right.

Me: "My dudes, I'm not feeling well. I think I'm going to sit the next ride out. I just need to uh stretch my legs or something."

Friend: "For fucks sake, <nycto> we have like four more tickets lets go on one more ride. That's enough for two of us to go on the swings. Just one last one and then we'll go home ok?"

M: "I don't know can't <husbando> go instead?"

Husband: "No I don't want to go I'll stand here." Thanks, husbando.

F: "STOP BEING SO BORING <NYCTO> LIVE A LITTLE YOU'RE SUCH A P****."

Fine.

I'll go. Where are we going? Please, the ride with the shortest line okay? The swings. Absolutely no line. Lets go, <friendo>. Husband goes to stand over /there/ out of the way.

So you know the swings, the giant carousel looking mother fucker with a bunch of swings instead of happy go lucky horses and shit? That one.

So being the only ones in line we are sat across from each other. She's far away, and the pole of the center blocks our view of each other. The guy waits for a few more people of course, but it was sparsely populated and off we go.

It was gentle. The breeze felt great, cooling off the ever increasing sheen of sweat accumulating on my brow. My stomach was still not feeling great though.

Really not great.

Really, really.

Really.

Not super.

Why isn't this fucking ride ending? I have been on this fucking thing for five fucking minutes. Six... I know there is no line but shit this is.. getting less and less fun. Does this guy think he's doing us a favor by making the ride go on and on? Pleaseletitend, pleaseletitend, please please...

"HEY." I try to call out to the operator. "HEY WILL YOU PLEASE STOP."

"STOP THE RIDE PLEASE. HEY."

"The RIDE. STOP."

"HEY."

"HEY."

"PLEASE STO--ablregrablhebluuuuu."

Time slows down. I try to put my head down and hope for the best, but I have to shut my eyes to keep my bubblegum pink vomit from splashing back up into my eyes and I don't have full range of motion of my arms. So I am helpless. So I'm trying to flap my arms for attention.

Like some sort of fucked up flamingo.

I hear a choir of "Ewwww," which thanks to the doppler effect got louder and softer and louder again as I went around and around. When I could finally open my eyes I catch a glimpse of my husband matrix dodging pink puke bullets in the sidelines and the operator desperately trying to get the ride stopped as quickly as possible.

I think I might have blacked out. The next thing I remember is my husband wrapping his arm around my shoulder and lending me his jacket, guiding me away from the swings and past a group of no less than 20 spectators that are covered in bubblegum pink splash.

Their infant is crying. The kid that I hit behind me is crying.

My friend that forced me to go on the stinkin' ride is just fucking /gone/.

While crossing the fair and skate park beside it I clear a radius like a leper. No one stands in our way. No one asks questions. A hush falls over the crowds and all there is, is this dance music that keeps thrumming in my throbbing head. It's somehow haunting, somehow... creepy. If you've ever been in an abandoned amusement park, you know the feeling I'm speaking of.

Since we were at the beach there were showers. I tried my best but ended up abandoning my clothing in the parking lot and riding home in my bra and panties. The stench was unbearable.

At the car we catch up with my friend. Who doesn't talk to me all the way home.

She never invited me to the fair again.

And my husband? He said it looked like a pink tornado.

We don't talk about that day much anymore.

That wonderful feeling when you were looking up names for mercenaries on babynames.com and leave it open when you fall asleep only to be awakened by a husband worriedly delivering tea and asking if there's something he should be knowing.

Because why the heck not?

RETIRED
Fallcoast: Eko, Lilja, Raquel, Razija, Jazmijn, Zuraida, Aconite (Staffbit)
Arx: Lark (2nd? I think) Selene (2nd or 3rd?) Ophelia (Who knows?) Zuraida (OC), Aeryn (OC)
Reno 1st: Scarlett, Raquel, couple others I don't remember
Reno 2nd: Yuko, Satu, couple others I don't remember
Fear and Loathing: Renate
8th Sea: Liren
Mars: Merielle
Valorous Dominion: Giselle

CURRENT
Arx: Ann Redrain (2nd)

I am so angry. At myself. For being so stupid.

It got cooler here, only 95 and started to rain. Hallelujah!

I left the door open to get some air. Didn't think much about it! But the puppies got out. It's okay, they are potty trained now, so we usually leave the door or the doggie door open for them.

I didn't think they would go and search for the first mud puddle to form and go waller in it like a pig.

Oh, but they did.

My clean, happy ass was just sitting here when suddenly... mud feeties everywhere. I'm covered in mud. My formerly clean kid is covered in mud. My whole house is decimated like a tornado just ripped right through it.

I had to follow emergency bath protocols with no one to help me (they are some big damn dogs) and now I am dripping sweat and covered in mud and I smell like wet hounds.

IDK if anyone knows the smell of a basset hound, let alone a wet one. It's not the finest of scents.

I have to go to the store now smelling like this before they close. >:| I just can't win today. I can't believe I left the door open.

Stop laughing.

Five days of no smoking today.

The most surprising part about it is that... I haven't had any cravings, no mood swings, no tremors, nausea, or other severe withdrawal symptoms I was expecting. Actually, my mood I would say is better because my blood pressure is more manageable and I'm feeling better physically because less chest pains.

Not at all what it was like when I was giving up benzos. Hooboy. That's some shit. My doctor has told me getting off of benzos is about like getting off of heroin in terms of difficulty. I did it cold turkey (had to used up all my supply and the government cracked down on it so I wasn't going to get any more from them) and the first 2 or 3 days I hallucinated and just... sweat and shook and slept. I still feel their siren's song though. Shit is powerful.

Imagine taking a pill and literally your whole life was okay. Everything is just okay. Great, even. Amazing. That's a benzo.

I DO struggle (with smoking) when it feels like I should be doing something though. I have these moments of "I have something I should be doing" and then I realize oh it's a regular smoking time. And then I can brush it aside. It's not always easy. Like "last one. It can't hurt!" but I'm getting through it. I know on the other side my thinking will be clearer.

Tomorrow I am going to start intermittent fasting for the first time. One day fasted, one day not. Eating mostly a keto type diet on my on days and surviving on tea and water for my off days. I likely won'know if it's for me or see any benefits until I hit month 2 or 3.

I'm really conflicted because I've been taught that FASTING BAD EAT ALL THE TIME and FOOD PYRAMID BIBLE and CALORIES IN/CALORIES OUT. That "crash dieting" is a cardinal sin. I'm at the point where I have tried every diet and have been living on 400-800 cals a day to keep my weight where it is, no weight loss even if I am body building and doing 2 hours of cardio a day or if I'm just lounging on a couch all day. It doesn't matter!

But the fact of the matter is that a condition I have known as PCOS just doesn't work like that. I need to readjust my thinking and reassess the rules. I might need to break them to just find what works for me. I am probably not going to die form PCOS but it's preventing me from living. It's stripping everything away that I liked about myself. My glorious long, healthy, thick hair. My sunny disposition and all together "good" personality. Anything outgoing about me. It's literally turning me into a grumpy ass cave troll with discolored skin, thin hair, beard, boils, and now that I can't shave my fucking armpits for a while you can add smelly to these adjectives.

I pray the damage that has been done can be undone. I'm so fucking done with this. I need a change.

January 3rd, my best friend died. Every day since then I have spent at least 3 hours a day, on average, crying. Last night it was particularly bad. I couldn't sleep. My heart was thoroughly shattered like it had just happened again.

I was shattered, but I didn't want to replace her. No one/thing could. Ever. But I was left with a gaping, sucking chest wound in my heart and soul. So I said, the right dog will come along. And it'll be the right time. And the right... everything. It'll just happen.

Don't tempt fate... Because I have found fate delivers. Apparently in pairs.

Meet Boris (as in Karloff) and Bela (as in Lugosi). Both females. 12 weeks old. We pick them up at the airport tomorrow.

Here's another one.

Now, I love Durban. I went there on my honeymoon. If anyone out there has ever visited (or has plans to visit) South Africa, it's by far my #1 recommended tourist destination. The clubs there are amazing. The Indian Ocean is warm. The surfing is spectacular. The weather is perfect, hardly ever falling below 18° C /64° F. They have the 5th biggest aquarium in the world with a pool where the only thing separating you from their shark tank is a big ole piece of glass. The people there are fucking awesome. There are game reserves. They have mountains. They have cheaper prices on practically everything compared to Jo'burg or Cape Town. But what I remember the best is that the food is just... yes. We went out to eat every night - sea food on a boat in the harbor, Korean food (hard to find in SA), sushi, and Indian food.

Oh yes, the Indian food.

Durban is known for it's Indian population and its amazing Indian food. For a great reason. It's the most amazing stuff ever.

Now, being born and raised in North Carolina and Virginia USA, this was such a different experience. You can't get proper curry where I'm from - not that I had ever even had the bad curry. But, for noobs to curry like myself, I really recommend the samoosa. It's a little triangle piece of crispy pastry stuffed with savory filling. My favorite being the beef mince curry or mutton curry (there aren't a ton of vegetarian Hindu Indians here, they are mostly Muslim). They're cheap too, at about R5-10 each, they are less than a dollar.

I might have had upwards of about 40 of them during the last few days of my visit there.

Anyway, it was a long drive home. About 8 to 10 hours, depending on traffic.

I didn't even see it coming. I mean, in retrospect, maybe I should have.

Hour three of our drive, I sneezed.

"Oh shit, I shat."

Not only that, it had the distinct qualities of a samoosa. Oily and burny and with a distinct curry smell - expelled from my anus at the speed of sound. I think I might have discovered the real brown note, if you know what I mean.

Cue about 4 or 5 hours of my husband giggling, with our car windows down and him hanging out of the window as he drove.

We couldn't stop. We were out in the middle of the fucking African bush. Ain't no gas stations in the middle of the African bush. You know what's in the middle of the African bush? Hijackers, murderers, and fucking lions. And I surely didn't want to fucking die with shit in my pants.

And I didn't want my husband to die because I had shat my pants.

I couldn't reach my bag to do anything about it, either. I managed to get a towel to sit on to spare our car seat, but... it was the most disgusting ~4 hours of my LIFE and it was even more awks when we got home and had to greet family. He had to distract them while cackling like a hyena as I slipped in and made a direct path to the bathroom.

And that is definitely the reason why we are still together. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.

I'm not really angry or disgruntled, but I've had a long day and I wanted to blow some steam off about it. It's not really embarrassing, but there is a story. So.

Today I had two things to do. Pick up my kid's books at his school and then pop him over to the barber. That's it. I was keeping my expectations low.

This morning, my husband's phone was acting up so he took my mother in law's phone. And his. He never replaced mine from The Accident of 2019 where he destroyed my cellphone with his butter fingers.

I had to borrow my sister in law's car. Our second one is having a check up at the mechanic.

So, I was in a strange car, with no cellphone.

I managed to grab the books at my kid's school, and we were in a great mood. I turned on the radio and got three or four blocks away, stopped at a stoplight and then... something snapped. I couldn't get the car going again.

Felt like the clutch but also the brakes were weird too. Not important. What's important here, was that I was now stranded with my kid in an intersection.

All we had was Jesus. So I'm like JESUS SEND SOME HELP PLEASE. I can't abandon the car in the middle of an intersection. I mean I CAN but like, ehhh I'd rather not.

That's when two angels appeared (not really, some passerby's, and pushed my car to safety. I still had absolutely no way to contact help.

We are only about 3-4 miles away from home. No choice but to hoof it.

About a third of the way there I realized we were passing by my cousin's house, and he rarely locks doors. He can't even remember to lock doors and always leaves a gate open for me if I need to get in. AHA I said. Let me just... slip in there and call for help.

"Lets go back to the car," my sweet innocent child said.
"Why, what's the car going to do for us?"
"Maybe Jesus fixed it while we were away."

We pursued to cousin's house.

Everything is locked up. But I thought, maybe, if we could get past the gates and to the actual doors, we can just get in. It's not like he could have remembered to lock ALL THE GATES AND DOORS RIGHT?

Right. So, I'm like, hey kid lets get you over this gate and you can try the door.

Suddenly, for the first time in his life, my kid is afraid of heights and despite 3 attempts, no - no he didn't go over the gate.

Personally, I'm wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans - but I'm not skinny - so I am not nimble enough to pull it off unless I take my pants off. And that's not going to happen.

So, I pull a 150lbs. cement planter over next to the brick wall after popping my nose over it to see where would be the best place to put it.

And I manage to get up on the 8-9" wall.

My kid hides his face in the wall against his clasped hands and starts loudly praying to Jesus that I don't fall and die.

Thank you kiddo for your vote of support.

I land fine, but have something of an out of body experience as I hit the ground. I've hurt my foot, feels a bit sore but... I'm ok. Nothing is broken.

I pull a lawn chair up to the wall and get my kid over, who's panicked and running up and down the length of the wall screaming.

He immediately gets, fully dressed, into the pool. It's of course, 9:30am so it's FREEZING and I'm yelling for him to get out because we have no towels. And now I'm limping around to all the doors and windows to see if there's a way in.

There is one door open. It is to the outdoor toilet in the garden 'center'. The others - and windows - are all locked. And now I don't think I'll be able to scale the wall again with my foot.

So I sat down and I thought. And I looked under every pot plant and every garden gnome and found absolutely no keys.

AHA! A friendly neighbor. I shout over the wall to him. He is obviously reluctant to me using his phone, and making phone calls for me, even though he manages to dial 3 numbers anyway - no one picks up.

Because they don't know the number.

Meanwhile my kid is screaming from the back yard, "I GOTTA POOOOOOO"

Remember the outdoor toilet?

Well my kid drops a deuce and it won't flush because there's no running water. I assume because the water is turned off, but I can't find a way to turn it back on. So. Whatever. At least he didn't do it in his pants.

I waited for an hour for someone to miss me and I thought about my sister in law in a couple hours, and my mother in law - with no way to contact me, they MIGHT send someone to look for me and they'd find the abandoned vehicle but who would think to look at me here, at my cousin's house? We would have to wait 8 hours in the African Heat (35 Celcius) with nothing to drink or eat, and with my kid just whining.

Time to break a window.

I find the heaviest object I can. It is an old cement duck sitting in a bird bath.

I'm about to throw it through the window pane of the door when my kid starts screaming "NO NO NO YOU'LL KILL US BOTH!" and crying. He's legit, terrified at this point and is crying that he wants to get home. I tell him to go stand aside... (he moves to the other side of the pool in case, IDK, the duck causes a nuclear explosion) and I throw it through.

It makes a small hole, so I kick the rest of the window out and slip through. Then, help my kid through.

I finally called someone. Uncle to the rescue. He measures the glass and orders it over the phone for pick up.

He takes us both back home and is fixing the car.

When my cousin comes home, he finds his wall has been scaled, window broken (but swept up), and someone has left a deuce in his toilet without flushing.

Yesterday my sister that I haven't heard from in about 10 years gets into contact with me. To tell me that my father died.

Someone found him on Thursday.

He disowned us 13+ years ago and he's basically a cat man hermit that lives in the Appalachian mountains. He owns a piece of land up there, practically a whole mountain. He, my grandparents, and uncle and his family bought it when I was a kid.

Grandparents died quite a while back so their place has been rented out or sold.

No one was able to give us any kind of information on him at all. So my sister begins to call around and do some hardcore investigative work.

First the funeral homes, then the morgue, then hospitals. Sheriff's office is closed until Monday. The Dept of Health and Human Resources. Everywhere. I can't help because I am on literally the other side of the globe.

But during this time she finds out that our uncle (dad's brother) has died (3 years ago) and his wife and kids moved across the country to Washington State and their house has been sold or rented out too. My dad had no one listed as next of kin because he was absolutely alone. That neighbor said they didn't even know he had any children or living relatives.

We had to have a discussion on what to do with his body and belongings, which is a strange conversation to have with a person you barely know about another person you haven't seen since 2008 - and before then, probably a decade prior.

None of the hospitals would give us any information at all... until she finds out he's not actually dead, he is in an ICU in a different part of the state. The hospital won't let us talk to him. Won't even tell us if he's conscious or not. Won't tell us why he's there.

All of the stress sent my diabetes into a tizz and I woke up this morning with a kidney infection. And a migraine because who the fuck wouldn't have a migraine right now. It's Sunday, so I have to wait til tomorrow to see a doctor. Tylenol do your best.

I don't know how to process all this. I couldn't cry. I mean, I couldn't cry for his physical death but I cried because I miss the man that loved me... But that man died a long time ago.

The only thing I know to do is to just grab some paper and let it all out and then burn it.

I have pneumonia and I'm just going to be honest I do not have the energy to be chasing after this dingle berry this time, but my red flag is also going off on Arx RE: DWOPP.

Also, RE @Lithium. Funny enough, they were accused of being DWOPP on the previous MSB/Hogpit for the SAME TYPE OF BEHAVIOR as DWOPP . Probably why they are a little touchy /now/ or something. But. I'll say it again.

Not the same. Lithium was banned on 7/20/2018 from Arx, playing Barric and Cleo for "Had a tendency to be passive aggressive, guilt trip, or 'joke' in ways that made other players feel uncomfortable when turned down for RP or excluded in any way. Was warned a couple times about minor instances. When confronted about another instance and warned it could not happen again, ragequit."

Can 100% confirm that's pretty much to the point but with a distinctly rapey vibe that DWOPP didn't have.

Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers 10/10

Absolutely wonderful and creative. I love the energy of these cats but PETRICHOR IS FAV. Great job.

It still hasn't arrived. I am slowly devolving into a nervous wreck thinking, "lol what if I'm just waiting for the cops to sting me"...

Hello Friends and Acquaintances. I am an amateur botanist and gardener. This year I'm having spectacular success with some if not most of my plants except for the random pineapple plant that literally just fucking disappeared??? I would love to know what happened to it???

I also work at a church.

We recently had some renovations done and one of the builders had a join (or several??) behind our church and anyway. Lets just say that on Sunday I dug out FIVE??? cannabis plants. Mostly because I don't want the conservative grandmothers to start flinging their poo at us but also because I wanted to see if I could grow them. I mean. Waste not, want not.

As an aside, in my country it is legal to cultivate cannabis for personal use.

I could tell the plants were sativa, but obviously not the strain. I figured, knowing my country, it was definitely some backyard rando strain.

Unfortunately the soil they fell on was rocky and the roots were shallow and tangled in the rocks I tried my best but my Church Ganja has died. I just couldn't get the roots out.

So, I have obtained some seeds. No, I won't tell you how or where. The one strain is extremely potent at 25-30% THC. They are also sending me a "sampler" pack to try out various other strains.

They arrive in 3 days. I expect to plant them on Christmas day.

I probably am only going to smoke it once just as a test but I don't want it to start tempting me back into smoking tobacco. I am not allowed to sell it (lol jail bad ok?). So therefore, I am probably going to make edibles.

Would any of you be interested in looking at pictures and/or reading about the progress as I learn how to cultivate and process? Maybe recipes? Asking questions?

As a note, if posting this is against the community guidelines, please delete this. Or, move it into a more suitable forum.

@carma Well if I tell him "hey, you broke the birds neck when you were using it as a toy and stuffed it into your grandmother's slipper" he will be absolutely crushed.

We have opted to tell him the bird was sick and weak instead and honestly - he was very panicked and freaked out even over that. Cried. I mean, quite a bit traumatized but we have been distracting him with games for the time being. He's a sensitive guy. A little obsessed with getting another right now. He ells me he wants a "really expensive bird" one, buuut I'm kinda terrified that's going to be a "really expensive bird funeral".

This morning, my kid found a very young bird (still had some of its baby fluff, couldn't fly) out in the garden. He was on his way to school. I kept an eye on it, and after I got done with my stuff four hours later it was still there.

I made some baby bird food and took it in. It was strong, and I had lots of hope of it surviving.

My kid came home and was thrilled. I sat him down and told him all about baby birds, and how we had to be EXTRA gentle because they are very fragile. And, from how he was acting with it, being very gentle, I allowed him some supervised time with it. I was right there.

Anyway. I put it in a cage and made myself some food. I made the bird, now named McNuggets some food, all was good. We snuggled, watched some TV. Kiddo occasionally popped in to touch it. All is fine.

Second feeding went really well. But I was exhausted. I put him back in the cage, perched him by my head so I could hear him if he got hungry before his next feeding time. Literally a foot from my face.

Its been 2.5 hours. I caught my son in the room at my side with the bird. He would reach in and pet it and leave. He did this twice, but I was damn sure to tell him to leave it alone. Many, many times.

I never dreamed that he would take the cage and take it out.

But he did. He stole the bird in its cage away and took it to another room where he tried to smush it into a slipper and broke its neck. Then he tried to perform CPR on it in his panic (pushing on its tummy) and... Well. Didn't make it better.

I'm so disappointed. Sad. This is one of those teachable moments I guess. Gotta be gentle when I don't want to fucking be gentle.

I got really lucky with my son.

Last year (Kindergarten) in 2020, I homeschooled him. So I know first hand what it's like to get him to sit and concentrate. (Impossible. It's impossible).

And this year, we were blessed with the covid restrictions where half his class would go one day and the other half the next. This was ok for about half the year but his teacher started taking him every day because it takes him twice the time to finish his assignments.

He isn't incapable of doing the work. He does math and reading at a 3rd or 4th grade level. When it comes to writing, however, and concentrating on it? Nope. He almost outright refuses to write anything. And his handwriting is bad. Because he loses focus after every single letter. Every single one.

Even tying his shoes is such a chore he loses focus during it.

Anyway his teacher has made accommodations to give him extra time. We do communicate. We have meetings at least twice a semester. For example, this meeting we decided his pencil bag is a huge distraction, so she needs keep his crayons and other things for him and I have to send him to school with a restricted amount of items. I give him 2 pencils, a glue stick, and a sharpener and that is all he is allowed. Otherwise he spends 45 minutes "looking" for whatever item it is he needs.

I guess I'm also blessed not to live in the USA anymore. I was born there, and lived there until I was 17, so I know how BS the school system is but I'm in South Africa now. We have a lot more holidays than the USA, as well as shorter days. And I think their lunch is satisfactorily round about 11:00 as he starts at 8, then gets out at 1 most days, 12 on Friday. I'm also thankful they do uniforms. It makes dealing with mornings a LOT easier. There's no wiggle room or negotiating or fighting about what he's going to wear.

His teacher, while very understanding, has been giving a lot of homework. We are so behind. But, I think she understands and has never complained about his homework not being done on time. To be fair this is the first time this year we are behind. But. It took us 45 mins to an hour to complete one page where he had to write 4 sentences and draw a small picture and write his name. It was like pulling teeth.

He also doesn't seem to have any sensitivities to stimuli. Though I have barred the rest of the family from being anywhere near the living room while we do homework because they will laugh at him (because he's cute, not maliciously) or have their own things to say.

I have tried studying with and without music. it doesn't seem to affect him. Though he does HATE the music I play (lofi homework music on youtube type stuff) and wants to force me to play terrible minecraft dance remixes.

Minecraft is where his mind goes. It's where he lives in his head. He's thinking about it constantly, 24/7. When he goes to sleep at night. When he wakes up. When he's on the toilet. When he's eating. All the damn time. You would think it's a good thing to motivate him with, right? But no.

Potty training was also a fun ride. Boy howdy, let me tell you x_x

I thought I had a point and questions to add to this post but I'm exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally and I lost track.

Shit.

Well, I've known it deep down since he was born, basically in the womb when the child wouldn't stop squirming in my belly... But my kid has been diagnosed with ADHD. It's a boy, with the classic boy signs of hyperactivity, without too much impulsivity. Like, he won't hit other kids or act out - he's incredibly sensitive and polite - but it's physically impossible for him to sit still and concentrate at school.

If anyone has any advice on this kind of situation I'm all ears. Has anyone else gone through this? My son is in 1st grade.

Stuck in the loo at work because i sat down to take a pee and now someone came in and is standing outside the door and i have a shy bladder so i guess i will just wait til you finish commenting on the new paint color or whatever ill just die.