Waterfalls

Is there a name for when you’ve drunk too much water and your stomach’s puffed up, and it pulls when you move?

Well, I’ve drunk too much water and my stomach’s puffed up, and it pulls when I move. It’s grotesque, really. The skin’s all stretched thin, all sore and drum-tight, and why did I do this? Was I that thirsty? (I still am. How’s that possible?)

I’d try some bread to soak it up, but I’m too fat to move.

I’ll have to move soon, for obvious reasons.

I didn’t think this through.

Here’s a silly question, while I’m sloshing like a gourd: does everyone pee in the shower? I do it beforehand—pee; clean the bowl; clean myself. It’s just, y’know…it’s the toilet brush. It sits by the bog and it goes in the bog, but it never gets washed. A regular scrub can’t erase that, so I get in the shower and I hold up my hands, and I give them a pressure-wash. All nice and new.

Am I supposed to wash my toilet brush? How would I do that, even? Boil it? Drown it in Lysol? Oh, I’ll just ask my housekeeper. Or I’ll buy a new one. They should make, like, a self-cleaning toilet, with hot water and…and steam nozzles. Like a dishwasher, but for shit.

Ahem. So I pee, then I shower, but I heard it’s more common to combine the two. To save water, sort of thing. Except, wouldn’t you end up conditioned to piss when wet? What if you sprinkled the shower drain one time too many, then got caught in the rain, and, like…psssssssssssss? Or if someone got in with you, and you peed on their feet?

I’d be offended by that, someone hosing my feet. I’m not a begonia. I can water myself.

You know, I didn’t just drink water. I had grape juice as well, and a thing of Pediasure. I don’t think I ate anything. I was going to, but I didn’t.

Anyway, I just dropped in to say I’m puffed up and it hurts, and shower-peeing is weird.

Here’s a kangaroo.