A Shitty Mess

After being unclogged for a couple of weeks, my toilet is clogged again. The funny thing is that we discovered it was plugged up literally thirty seconds before the previous clogger showed up at the house, which was fortunate so that the blame wasn't pointed at this same person again. (See? It really does clog all the time.) Later that night, unable to use the toilet, the former clogger made the best of a difficult situation and peed in the shower; the next morning, we discovered that our shower was clogged, too. So either the clogger has some super magical urine or our plumbing is backed up altogether at this point. It's gross.

Not as gross as the fact that certain housemates have pooped in the clogged toilet knowing it was clogged and then complaining that no one has fixed it yet. Listen: I will take my turn plunging in normal circumstances, but when you add your shit to the the mix, then that is your responsibility to clean up. If someone expects me to work around their poop in order to fix the toilet, they are sorely mistaken. This Constipated Camel (a former nickname indicating my ability to not use the bathroom for an entire day) can go without a toilet for far longer than the rest of them.

The following night, Anna, Michael Michael, Jessica, and I play a rousing game of Cranium. Perhaps arousing is a better word - Anna was doing charades trying to get me to guess the word on the card. She started out thrusting her pelvis, then grabbed her breasts. "Sex? Boobs?" I tried. She then pantomimes swallowing a pill. "Drugs? Sex, drugs, and rock and roll?" Anna shakes her head no, thrusts her pelvis again, squeezes her breasts, then squeezes my chest. I'm thoroughly confused, this game generally is not risque, and in hysterics, while Anna acts out putting a needle in her arm. "Heroin?" She violently humps the air and grabs for my body again, and we both dissolve into laughter as the time runs out. The word? Hormones. Ah, there's the connection between the sex and drugs. Having almost peed myself during that round, I excuse myself to the front yard to urinate since our toilet is clogged. Meanwhile, Anna confesses that she has managed to pee herself a little bit and runs for that unusable toilet.

"Gross!" she shouts when she discovers the first toilet is in a filthy condition. "Use the other toilet," Jessica responds. "Oh grosssss!" we hear again. "I said use the other toilet!" Jessica says again. A few more seconds pass by and Anna screams again. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! You guys need to see this!"

We assume she's still just in the first bathroom petrified by the scene, but in truth she has attempted to travel to the other toilet, only to encounter more of a shitty mess. Unbeknownst to us game players, the house's backdoor has been closed, leaving the dogs with nowhere to relieve themselves. At the threshold of Jessica and Michael Michael's room sits a huge puddle of dog pee, which Anna managed to slosh her bare feet into it, prompting her second "Gross!" exclamation. From there, she sprints with her wet feet toward the toilet, only to step firmly into a pile of dog crap. The poop cakes to the bottom of her foot, even squishes between her toes. She tracks the poop on the carpet for a few steps before hopping to avoid spreading it further.

Jessica enters the room and finds it in disrepair, feces and urine in several places, the stench overwhelming. Anna is freaking out in the corner, hopping on one foot and gagging. Jessica puts Anna in the shower to wash off her foot and begins cleaning up the shit off her rug. Alas, Anna is too disgusted and ill to rub the poop off her foot; even with the force of the water, it is too firmly attached to come off. As Jessica uses her hand to wipe the poop off, Anna declares that she has to vomit, so Jessica grabs the trash can. Unfortunately, the trash can is now full of dog shit, so that when Anna sticks her face over it to throw up, the smell is too repulsive for her to even spew, so she has to hop to the functioning toilet where she finally discovers a clean enough environment and successfully vomits.

Meanwhile, Michael Michael and I take the dogs out to make sure they don't relieve themselves indoors any further. When we come back in, Jessica is upset that we didn't help clean up, so she jokingly sprays cleaner fluid in our direction. It gets in Michael Michael's eye, so he has to run to the sink and flush his eye out for fifteen minutes, while Anna is in the shower next to him trying to clean/compose herself, and Jessica continues to scrub the shitty mess off the floor.

As for me, I was pretty unhelpful. That was my bad. The world was falling apart in front of me and I chose to lay down rather than address it. I couldn't handle the pee, I couldn't handle the shit, I couldn't handle the vomit, and I couldn't handle the toxins in the eye. Besides, someone had to finish the Cranium game, right?

Golly, that was a sight to see.