Remain Champagne

20th July 2011

Post with 2 notes

INFINITY POO

Again with the infinity pools.  These things don’t quit: The whole thing with the horizon and what appears to be the end of the pool but it’s not the end, but kind of is.  And I’m not gonna be swimming in these things.  Whenever I see pictures of these things I always think: Oh, that’s something I won’t be doing today.  A pool means I gotta take off my shirt.  And taking off my shirt means there’s gonna be infinity hair.

An infinity pool makes me wanna jump in it and take an infinity pee.  Hell, I don’t have to jump into one of these things to feel like I’m having an infinite pee.  I just had a piss that took so long I napped.  I nodded off.  Standing up.  (I wish I could nod off while I’m typing this now, wake up and have it be done.)

 I think one of the first blogs I ever wrote on Facebook was about an infinity pool.  If this is an infinity pool, what do you call those exercise pools where you’re swimming forever in place?  One is sexy.  The other not so much.

(What I’m doing right now ain’t fair.  You shouldn’t repeat yourself blog-wise, but there are too many comic premises for the infinity pool.)

I wonder how many times you’ll hear something like this at an infinity pool: “I know you are but what am I!  I know you are but what am I!  Infinity!”

I wanna start an infinity dead pool.  Just never-ending bets with friends to see who’s gonna die next for the rest of our lives and then an agreement to meet in the afterlife to continue the betting.

I’ve never been in an infinity pool, but I had some bad Chinese food the other day and had myself infinity poo.  Does that count?  (I know it doesn’t count.)

This pictures reminds me that I need some joy in my life.  (I almost typed “more joy in my life,” but I didn’t wanna give the wrong impression.)


I remain

Champagne