Yes, reader(s) it is the day after Valentine’s and much like any other day after such a holiday event, comes the blah, bloating and the sh*ts. And I do not necessarily speak of monies being wasted or of growing debt. No! I am talking literally about one’s bowel movement(s). Those sh*ts.
Of course, we have Miss Potti B to thank for yet another delightful little tale of delirium aboard the Delirium Train.
Miss Potti B with so much free time on her hands, at this time she was not working towards bettering herself with acquiring her GED. No! Nor was Miss Potti B bothering much with cleaning her home. Why bother? The sun was out, the blinds lowered and semi-closed, and finally, the television provided for a distraction for her baby boy. So all in all, it’s an average day at Miss Potti B’s. And while in this dull lull, Miss Potti B decided to share with me her friendly neighbor at the time, and please keep in mind still, reader(s) that I have gone above and beyond to remain civil to this twit and her unruly brood.
I was returning from a walk quite possibly at this time when Miss Potti B spotted me and invited me in for a cup of coffee. The coffee I declined the conversation, not so much. And why I could not decline from this daily chit-chat? It was about sh*t of course.
We are not speaking about the dog shit that other neighbors refuse to clean up after their pets. No! And we are not talking about her mood at the time. No! We are talking about her, we say that it is, he is a close relation. Mind you; it was not Baby Daddy. Oh no!
It is, he is another relation completely. Though of course, Miss Potti B is always screaming that Baby Daddy is a Shit. Not to be confused with one’s bowel movement(s). But a shit in general and or an asshole depending of course on his daily activities.
Baby Daddy is off to work at 5/5.30 am and returns shortly after 3.30 and or around 4, depending of course whether or not Miss Potti B has him running around and picking up few things for her because she did not at that the time drive. Also, Baby Daddy has no license and was bumming a ride’ from a steady co-worker. Til this day, Baby Daddy is still bumming these rides. Payment most like, if this neighbor had to say, payment(s) were, are being made in some drug trade. This is yet another story, for another day.
No today we are speaking about said close relation and his lack of abilities to fully taking a shit. I joke with you not reader(s). Miss Potti B felt for some reason that she needed to share this bit of information with me. And of course being the good neighbor that I am, I merely listened to the story. I mean really, how does one refuse a story about shit?
So said close relation, if you could not guess is also another Pothead with a little brood of his own. Married? No! Is said close relation living with his Baby Mama and her two previous children of yet another Baby Daddy? Yes! Absolutely! And all three so-called parental figures, head of the family are living off the state with much questionable assistance.
The second Baby Daddy and his Baby Girl’ not to be confused with the term of a child, no. Baby girl’ aka Daddy’s new girlfriend in this instance was of the questionable age of eighteen and or nineteen and still in high school.
I should mention now that this close relation has a job that would be considered, working under the table,’ meaning, he gets paid daily and or weekly in cash for his workday. It was never disclosed what said relation does for work,’ but to say that he was and is still ‘working under the table.’ At least Miss Potti B is gripping about how Baby Daddy should be doing the same kind of work and still working at his factory job.
Returning to said close relation with the problem of having issues with being able to do his secondary business’. Miss Potti B say number two or second business’ so I shall do the same here.
Said relation had not acquired this injury to his bum. Said relation was not born with some birth defect that had and or is to date, affecting his secondary business and or bum directly. What is this issue of the bum? It is scar tissue of, over the a**hole.’ Again reader(s) I joke with you not. These are words directly from Miss Potti B. Her said relation, another regular pot smoker has hardened scar tissue of his a**hole’. Why? I cannot explain further. How does Miss Potti B know that her said close relation has scar tissue over his a**hole? It shall for this Witness remain a mystery. One that I never care to know the answer of -ever!
Said close relation, very much like Miss Potti B and her Mother, avoids visiting the doctor -if at all possible. Mind you Miss Potti B will rush her baby boy to the pediatrician when he is ill, but for any other reason(s) -not unless the issue(s) significantly affect her -then no doctor for any of them.
Now I ask you, reader(s), if you had the issue of not being able to poo or take a shit, would you not visit your doctor?
Said close relation does not. He did not and to date, I believe, if the rumors still ring true, said relation still avoids the doctor and or any other medical treatment to address this most concerning medical affliction. Said close relation continues however to consume his caffeinated products and Red Bulls -daily. Said close relation smokes heavily as told by Miss Potti B and not just good old Mary Jane. And finally, said close relation always finds the means to conduct his second business, one way or another,’ as again, confirmed by Miss Potti B. Why or how does Miss Potti B even know this much detail of said close relation?
A few concluding thoughts for February 15, 2017…
Good Christ Almighty!
How do these f*cking Potheads survive? How do they continuously breed and thrive as they do in this world of ours? And finally, why does this issue of said relation of no consequence to me, remain in my thoughts?
At first telling of her story, I was lead to believe that Miss Potti B’s close relation had not taken care of his business’ in a very long time through natural bodily means. It was confirmed by Miss Potti B’s that said relation aka Dumbsh*t‘ never had or has had a colostomy bag.