If my mother’s ashes weren’t scattered out to sea somewhere, I could ask her a few things I’ve been wanting to know. Like, who did she vote for? Did she believe in God? Why the hell did she marry that lying-ass idiot fourteen years her junior after she divorced my father? And most importantly, what the hell did I do that prompted her to make me write this?
The nameless “SOME PEOPLE” is probably my sister. I don’t know whose wedding this was. I don’t even know when this was written but judging by my dubious outrage, the ridiculous self-righteousness, and my parent’s divorce in the early 1980s, I would say between 7th and 9th grade (circa 1977-1979).
So when I get to Heaven or the Great Whatever, the first thing I’m going to ask her is: “Did you read my essay with a sense of justice served by my punishment? Or did you laugh your ass off at my expense?”
If you’re like me, you can’t make it through the whole movie without having to pee and while this is not a problem at home with a DVD that can be paused at your convenience, this can be a stressful event in a theatre. You never know the right time to go because what if you miss something? What if that elusive kiss is finally planted while you’re down the hall relieving yourself? What if that key piece of information is delivered while you’re in the little girl’s (or little boy’s) room? And don’t you hate it that YOUR theatre is the one farthest from the dang bathroom?
That’s why you need RunPee.com. With RunPee.com, you can find out beforehand, the best times to pee during the movie. That’s RunPee.com. Because a Bladder is a terrible thing to hold.
Thank you, Sparky, of My Thoughts Exactly for dropping this awe-summm bomb on me the other day: