Gone the way of the Dodo

Here I sit all broken hearted
I tried to shit, but only farted
– Author Unknown

Maybe it’s because I’m not in grade school any more, or maybe it’s because I don’t hang out in truck stops like I used to, but I’ve realized something is missing from my life.  The Bathroom Lyricist, the Number Two Dungaboo, the Porcelain Poet.  These mysterious geniuses could put pen to wall, and in a few seconds, bam, masterpiece.  Profound words that no $99 seminar at some off beat executive hotel could ever offer.

Ladies, I don’t know if you’ve had these.  Maybe the bathroom stall wall is where Carly Rae first penned Call Me Maybe, or where Dave Chappelle came up with his remix edition about his song about pissing.  But regardless, it’s clear to me, the smart phone has killed the majority of them off.  Another horrific tragedy of the technology age.

Do people really think someone wants to receive a text from you while you’re on the pot?  Or that your move in (insert whatever game is popular at time reading this) came while you were dropping a load?  You’re disgusted even thinking about it, but yet, you do it.

Help save our bathroom stalls, bring back the writings on the walls.  Don’t shit and text, or peck and pee.