Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop, Obese Marmosets and Pat Benetar...

I needed a hot shower, steam rising, entering through my ears and into my brain where the tired gerbils run on the rusty wheel, getting no where, except to figure out that:

I really do love me a nice hot shower!

I can close the main curtain, and "try" and close the plastic one that I have been needing to replace but keep forgetting. I bought this one in 1902 at a Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe (the preceding was a Dollar General from 1902 store name "play on words" failed joke attempt, I am sorry).

I also bought the two things I always buy at the Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe (see,, it's funnier THIS time!)....corn cobs for wiping with and SPAM, Ye Ole' Dollar Coin Shoppe has THE BEST SPAM!! (jealous much?).

You know,, the flimsy shower liners that stick to your skin the whole time you are taking a shower making you feel ucky, I haz dem!! The ones you weigh down with a shampoo bottle on one side and a economy sized soap bottle on the other and then, one of these containers always slips down and stubs your divaliscious toe, and you curse and curse at the way your whole life turned out, all because you didn't spend the extra .50 to buy a "premium weighted shower liner" because you're an ass thrifty...... Well,, maybe YOU don't (spoiled,, hmmmpf).

After solving these problems of the shower curtain liner grafting on to my body, the next issue would be the children,, and keeping them duct taped out of the room for 10 minutes so I can sing be Pat Benetar in a sold out concert full of adoring chiseled torso'd Penguins and obese Marmosets (what??? It seems they're my target market sub-set) .

But then, thinking about it, maybe the skin graft effect of the shower curtain plays a role here because of it's skin-tight "pleather" pantsuit likeness's -- not that I've ever worn a shower curtain simulated "pleather" skin-tight pantsuit before.. (Seductress takes a moment to ponder this for her next concert wardrobe opportunity, but realizes that she had already sold out the shower arena for an Opera concert and will have to wait a day to realize the "pleather" pant-suit dream and then she creatively sighs).

So I await until the kids are in slumber and slink off into the shower. I lay out pj's and sparkle lotion. I light a candle for ambiance, setting the tone for my raptured relaxation experience (cough), I turn the water on and the handle comes off in my hands. I replace the handle only to find the "cappy thing" is now broken, I try 10 times to fix the "cappy thingie" before giving up and thanking the fine educational services of my country in enabling me to still realize which way to turn the handle even without the blue "C" or the red "H" (I Y plumbing conformity rules!).

The shower is turned on. The shower being turned on must also have a circuit breaker switch reaction to my child's ass,, as now I assess this said child's ass is now assisting me in assuming an aspiring role in assimilating the aroma ambiance of the room to his assal extractions.

Asinine of me to expect otherwise.

After the air clears by means of rumbling fan and helicoptering towels, I step into the lap of luxury.

Satan called, he wants his Bath Time Fun Toy back!!

I lean back into the whirling rains of a tropical waterfall, wetting my hair and enrobing my soul in peace and warmth. My arm catches the strings of the afore mentioned Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop. The hoop falls, knocking down the afore mentioned economy sized soap bottle which propels itself off the slope of the tub directing it's bubbly rage to my afore mentioned divaliscious toes. I avert this by side step jumping all "stealthy" like.

The afore mentioned Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop, whose industrial strength suction cup backing had stopped in perfect position for the next sequence of happenings, has now been raped with my foot. The hoop and netting are now up at my ankle and that diminutive suction cup backing must be giving hickeys to the tub because instead of releasing the hoop backboard, it stays on tight enough to make me lose my footing and fall over the side of the tub, reaching and flailing for the only safety available, the flimsy 1902 shower curtain liner from "Ye Ole Dollar Coin Shoppe" (you're LOLing at this joke now aren't ya??!!).

Which makes me think two a few things:

Why did I let someone talk me out of removing the 152 safety rails that were in my bathroom/shower due to the previous elderly owner,, knowing how stupid and accident prone I am??

and:

Maybe this wouldn't hurt so bad had I not been thrifty an ass and had paid .50 more for the "premium weighted shower liner"!!

and also:

I may still buy the cheap liner for the "pleathery" skin-tight pantsuit likeness's now because the follow-up concert is Lady Ga Ga and this just sounds like the perfect concert attire.

but mostly:

The Tazmanian Devil Bath Time Fun Basketball Hoop hasn't offered me ANY Bath Time Fun tonight.

What is the moral of this story you ask sweetly expecting it to have one....

(please insert your perceived "moral to the story" here)

I'm going to bed.