Quit Your Bitchin

I realised Monday as I was dragged kicking and screaming off my sofa to go to a concert. I complain entirely too much about my pooping problems. I am sure everyone that has hung out with me in the past year and a half is sick and tired of listening to me complain. Nobody cares how disgusting of an animal us men are. I mean seriously how hard is it to go into a stall and lift the toilet seat up with their foot and pee in a bowl. Unfortunately if it was just a little pee I could probably deal with it, it everything else that ends up all over the place. Good God!

Enough is enough. As I laid curled up in the fetal position trying with all my might not to relax a certain circular muscle in fear I would have defiled The Best Friends back seat, I realised just how big of a deal I made it. For those of you that had to listen to me moan and grown I am sorry. If it was just that one time it would probably be okay, but it is every time I go out. So I'm done.

The next time I am sitting in a parking lot waiting for 20,000 cars to move so I could get to a nice, clean, and private porcelain toilet you wont here a peep. I wont mention a thing as I finally get out of the car because my bladder was about to explode, and walked over to a van full of people and politely asked "Do you mind if I piss behind your van?" Not caring that the road everyone was exiting on was on the other side of the van. I then realised just how few times I have tried to stand and pee (which I have done maybe 10 times in the last year) and try not to relax previously said muscle. Not a word will escape my lips.

I now have something to work on while The Misses is gone. Thank you to all my friends that have got me off this damn sofa. I truly appreciate it and look forward to doing it again. Misses I miss you very much and nobody has heard me bitch and moan more. This will be more of a blessing to you then anyone else.

P.S. I Love you Sweety