What a game

I was going to write about walking into posts or my similarity to the Rock Bottom Remainders, but instead, it's Friday night and time for America's favorite game show "What body part screwed you over worst today, Matt?" (Yeah, we have to focus group that name; it's a little wordy.)

Contestant No. 1, are you ready to play?

Well, heck yeah, Wink. (Wink Martindale. Chuck Woolery is my second choice.) I am Matt's legs, and if anyone deserves the title, it's me. I mean, I am the one that gave out on him when he was transferring to his chair from his couch. Plus, I mean who kept him on the floor by continually slipping? That was all me.

Just a cotton picking minute there, Wink. It was not all the legs. Sure, they suck, but why in the name of God is Matt still wearing those shoes? They have no traction and are the real reason why he looked like one of the Banana Splits with all the sliding. You got to give it up for me, Matt's bladder. I am the one that all of a sudden had to go and got worse and worse while he was on the floor. And did you see that arc? Matt looked like a damn Greek fountain there, well except he was lying on the ground.

Whoa, there, babe. You mention that beautiful arc? That was all me, Matt's brain. I am the one who had the brilliant idea to pee in a water bottle, which I still say was awesome. If the bottle was not three-quarters full before we started, it would have totally worked. It is not my fault he filled the bottle and then had more to do.


I really, really wish this was not true, but it is. Well except the part about the talking body parts and it's not North America's favorite game show. Ever hear of a little thing called Press Your Luck?

So what did I do? I dealt with it, like I always do.

I finally got into my chair and then the bathroom. I changed my clothes, going commando briefly since no shorts were handy. Then I put things in the wash, wiped up the floor, washed the floor with vinegar, put the rags in the wash and had dinner.

Surprisingly enough, there was minimal cursing. I did think about this comic strip one of my sisters emailed me.

How am I supposed to ask anyone to be friends with me? I don't want to live in my pee-soaked world; why would anyone else? It sure seems too much to ask anyone anyway.