privy to my privy

Open the door, leap down the two steps of the porch, round the cabin, down the path made in the snow by feet on so many similar pilgrimages, hug bare arms against the cold, open the latch, fling open the door, throw your pants down to your knees (not ankles), don't look down, sit on the clever pink foam warm in the place of toilet seat, pee or poo, more than likely poo, and as you do contemplate the constellations of purposeless tacks in the back of the door where copious amounts of "stupid-ass- sayings" used to reside, put there by someone else.

Somebody else's sayings... Eff that. No, thank you. I'd rather this door be blank than full of Oprahesque phrases and witty Bill Cosbyisms. I'm going to put a pen and paper in there so we can add to the sayings  at our leisure. Will keep you posted on new turd-bits of wisdom so the stupid-ass-ness of the saying are kept in check.

Air freshener in the freshest air in the world. What overkill. I love how nature is making fun of the tree smelling thing by hanging it's own little version adjacent. Our hole doesn't stink unless the frozen poo stalagmite that gets formed from the outhouse not being properly centered over the hole has built itself up close to the opening. Then Squanch has to wait until it gets warm enough to budge it with a broken shovel we used for poolagmite removing purposes only. Too much info, perhaps? Well, just be thankful I didn't take a photo of the glorious thing.