Here I am, living another long and water filled day. My porcelain body cant take much more of this abuse, as Tyler forgot to push down the lever last night, and tomorrow is Saturday, which means he's sleeping in. 12 hours later he used me for a second time before finally cleaning my insides out, but the long night of suffering has given me some wicked indigestion, a common occurrence for Tyler and I, for he can be considered as the one who "kills too many trees". I now know some of Tyler's friends better than he does, as they were spitting their confessions to me, one spew at a time. He shouldn't have thrown that party last night. Welcome to the first "P". After some rubber recessitation, I can breathe again; I'm as free as a bird flying through the air.
I hear Tyler's family downstairs, loving life and enjoying each others company. Its chili night tonight and I'm preparing myself for the worst. Here comes the second "P" that makes my life feel like crap, literally.
Tyler's most common problem is his obsession with bottled water. As if I really need any more fluids inside my body. 18 trips today, that's how many I’ve counted so far. Tyler really needs to start putting the seat up more, his aim isn't too precise. I'm not a fan of my off-white complexion, but not like he cares, I'm just his dumpster. Welcome to the third P that makes me what I am.
Puke, Poop, Pee
The Story of my inanimate porcelain life.
I can't wait until I’m outdated.
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