Sh*t My Sh*t Says
“That makes absolutely no sense. Superman had nothing to do with Pulp Fiction. It wasn’t Kryptonite in the briefcase. The glow wasn’t even green; it was golden. It was Marcellus’ soul. You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever watched a movie with. Also, you don’t eat enough fiber.”
“We had Thai last night. I’m starving; just pick someplace already. [Rolls eyes] Fine. Thai Palace it is.”
“Knock, knock.”
Who’s there?
“Poo.”
Poo who?
“Poo who tells knock-knock jokes!”
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t eat the Payday bar I was saving for tomorrow. Believe me, I know.”
“And I’m telling you, it was definitely the dog.”
“Now that the second coat has dried and I can see it in full daylight, it’s too matchy with the sofa. I say, let’s go with burnt umber, or maybe chocolate.”
“… so the guy says, ‘The Aristocrats!’”
“Something big is about to go down. Hand me my boxing gloves, and turn on the fan.”
“Ha! I told you it was E. coli. You suck at Final Jeopardy!”
“‘Cut the crap?’ You’re a sick f*cker, you know that?”
“If that’s the Santorum campaign people again, tell them I received their offer, I’m not interested, and they need to stop calling.”
“That’s completely insane. There’s no way the second Darrin on Bewitched was better. You’re the biggest moron I’ve ever watched TV with. Also, that penny you accidentally swallowed on Wednesday … taken care of.”
japecake 
This is some funny shit.
Congratulations on making the first feces-related comment.
Doodie! Doodie!
“Spalding! LOOK OUT!”
Seriously, this might be the only blog post that’s ever made me laugh AND clench my butt. I think this is impressive?
Japecake: The Gentle Laxative.
Ah, so you’re saying Marcellus Wallace was Superman. Now I get that movie.
No, you misread it entirely. Marcellus Wallace was Jughead.
I bet your shit thinks it doesn’t stink.
It goes a little heavy on the Axe deodorant body spray, which makes it even worse.
Oh, you just make me laugh out loud….and I love the shades of brown visual. I haven’t been keeping up, so going to sit down now (throne-like) and catch up….
On a craptop, no doubt.
My shit should be grateful I’m not giving it shit about smelling and looking like shit.
Or making fun of its brains, which are made of … well, I think that’s clear.
Two words: Gold. Kryptonite. (Pssst: the yellow kryptonite was a hoax!)
I wonder what gave you the idea for this post? 😉
The human gastrointestinal tract, obviously.
Is this the piece you were telling me you submitted to The New Yorker, but they just didn’t get how it was a commentary on social media?
All the rejection letter said was, “Sorry, we’re not doing highbrow humor anymore.” The publishing world really is changing. On the bright side, Charmin has offered me a job as a copywriter.
I could never pooh-pooh on some old fashioned potty humor, why I read Rabelais with regularity and I don’t have to strain in order to appreciate his smooth genius.
Clearly, you’re down with the brown.
You really should update this with some patterns. It’s not as if people don’t eat corn, you know!
I will definitely heed your advice for my next sh*t-related post.
I lost my virginity to Radiohead…