Ah, boys.
So I'm on my way out for a walk the other day, and I stop in to tell Henry and his friend Sam that I am not, as it seems, leaving them all alone, as Scott is upstairs working. Henry replies, "Dad's here? Great, that means we can do whatever we want."
"And what, exactly, would that be?" I ask.
"Poop on the couch," Henry says. Needless to say, this cracks Sam's shit right up, and the two of them roll around on the floor, making jokes about couches and poop and pooping on couches as I locate my iPod and head out the door.
As Charlie the Dog drags me down the sidewalk, I turn on my third-favorite podcast, You Look Nice Today—the first and second being, respectively, The Sound of Young America and Jordan, Jesse Go!, although really, I don't like to rank my favorites, it's so crass—and the first thing I hear is guest John Hodgman saying, "Maybe I should come to your house and poop on your couch."
Couch-pooping jokes ensue. Meanwhile, I think deep thoughts about boys turning into men, men remaining boys, and that no matter what, the couch will always and forever remain the funniest furniture item upon which to imagine one's self pooping.
The End.










December 1, 2008
Reader Comments (51)
I still laugh.
Oh men!
Apparently my dad's grandpaw came home one night so drunk that he confused his living room for the bathroom. He dropped trow and seated himself on the couch -- right where his wife happened to be sleeping.
It was an eye-opening weekend.
Like this one, a friend of a friend kinda tale:
Girl goes out to bar, gets drunk, and gets picked up buy a guy. They go back to his place. In the morning, he has to leave for work, but he tells her to take her time getting ready to go. "Just lock the door when you leave," he tells her. They had a good time, so they exchange phone numbers.
So she hangs out, watches some TV, goes to the bathroom ... and the toilet doesn't flush. So ... she gets the poop out of the toilet and puts it in a plastic bag to take with her. Writes a note saying "Hey thanks for everything. BTW, your toilet is broken." And then she locks the door and leaves.
And only when she is outside does she remember that she forgot the plastic bag. Full of poop. On the counter.
Nice.
Off to find Alice's favorite podcasts....