D-Day: The Toilet Story

That's that I thought I read on the screen. I woke up from my nap as one of the war-mongering channels was hyping a new show. Of course it was hyping "D-Day: The Total Story."

My initial reaction was 'chagrin.' But then I recognized that I'd been presented with a wonderful opportunity! There are legions of story about men in combat, men doing heroic things! Women, too! But what about the 'back' story? The story about where they all pooped and peed before, during and after their heroics? Because you know they did.

I think it's an important, mature admission that we recognize the role of poop and pee in the affairs of men, both heroic and evil. And even common place, which makes three 'boths.'

Just think about your own life: I bet you can recollect a time when having to poop, pee or lay down a fart track, altered a course of action you'd contemplated. And it works both ways. Here's a story illustrating this point.

Robin Vickers was the least popular of the varsity cheerleaders, but not the least 'cute.' She was 'cute' to beat the band. She just wasn't as secure with her beauty as the other five cheerleaders, those vicious, prick-teasing, wannabe harlots. But one thing she did know, she loved Tim Franklin, the junior point guard of the likely State Champions, at least that what the local press was predicting. But Tim, because of a case of raging ass warts, couldn't bring himself to date. But he was under a doctor's care and was almost cured and then he was going to ask out that luscious cheerleader who didn't have a boy friend, Robin Vickers. (Remember, this is a true story.)

One afternoon, when both the basketball team and the cheerleader practice ended at the same time, Robin decided that she just had to proclaim her feelings to Tim. She waited out in front of the gym, just to the west of the door. Tim came out alone, hurrying. He was by her before she could react. But she sped after him. He was almost to his car before she caught up to him. But just as she was only a couple of steps behind and was about to call to him, he stopped. She stopped. He farted. It was one of those long, buzz saw kind of farts.

Her face flamed red and she turned and ran from him. He was so happy to get the gas back log reduced, with any lumpy surprises, that his deep sigh hid the sound of her retreating footsteps. He opened his car door and got in. As he was buckling up, he thought about the dreams he'd been having about Robin Vickers. He promised himself that the next time he saw her, he'd ask her out.

And he did. And he had no idea why her face got all red and she ran away.

Look, if you don't get the moral to this story, email me and I'll try to make it clear.

Plus we can talk about where the soldiers pooped and peed on D-Day.