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Lano
last online: 11/14, 3:18
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Sometimes in life, we are called to make great decisions.

These are times when the Dragon Gods test us. They want to see our resolve. They want US to see our resolve. For it is written, Eke Kei Kie ai kiai keia Kie.

Tonight was such a night for me. It was a perfectly mundane thing. I went into the bathroom to relive my tiny lizard bladder. And what happened but that sudden the pencil in my hand fell into the toilet.

Instantly, I knew that if I flushed, the pencil would eventually appear in my basement accompanied with some other less desirable sights. And all in all, this has happened before. The septic tank has backed up before, I mean. But due to a writing instrument? Nay, I say! Never!

Such an unprecedented cause would make mama and papa Lano immediately suspect my involvement. There would be yelling. Expressions of disappointment. Pulling out of the (proverbial) hair and ripping of the garment.

But, I have been "chewed out" as you humans say before. I can handle it. I will likely handle it again.

And indeed, this possibility presented itself to me, in that moment, as I looked down in the urin filled toilet ball, still filling from my evacuations. It was not so articulate as all that, no, it was a shadow over my discerning mind, and as it passed, I felt a great wrenching in my guts. No. This was not the path. This was the temptations of the Demon.

And so, what did I do? I had to think quickly.

I am not one of those lizards who relishes in my excrement. Indeed, I have trouble finding "poop" funny, if I'm being honest. So to stick my bare paw into my own urin is not something I could see myself doing easily. I tried to imagine it, but my brain rejected the idea.

So I had these two emotions that presented themselves as premises in my deliberation: This pencil must NOT be flushed down the toilet. And these beautiful hands must NOT be tainted by my own p***.

I looked at the toilet bowl. Water tinged yellow. I could barely see the eraser of the pencil, that is how deep it was in the bowl.

And of course, I had it. The rubber gloves in the cabinet. I took them. Seeing if they were long enough. So hard to tell...and only one way to know for sure.

I put one on, on my good paw, the right one. I dunk my hand in. So far so good. Slowly, carefully, trying not to push the pencil further down the drain..damn! I pused it!

More carefully now, spreading my fingers, trying to grab it between them....yes! Just barely! Between my two claw tips, I began to pull the pencil out of the bowl, slowly, carefully, it could slip between my claws so easily!

Sliding it along the bottom of the bowl, feeling my grasp loosening! Damn! I have a free hand, but I didn't glove it! Will it fall? WILL IT FALL?!

It did NOT fall, friends. Gods be praised. The pencil was rescued. I placed it on a tissue and washed the glove and my hands with soap. And disposed of the pencil.

Why did I have a pencil in the bathroom? Personal reasons.

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Since writing this post Lano may have helped people, but has not within the last four (4) days.
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toilet, hand, carefully, bowl, pencil
Replies (14)
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lano.. u can and able to illustrate a fine picture. i wish to erase it.

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Oddly riveting.

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verge
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That's funny! A pen is keepingy hair up right now...maybe I should be careful it won't fall out.

Lano edited this post .

Sometimes in life, we are called to make great decisions.¬ ¬ These are times when the Dragon Gods test us. They want to see our resolve. They want US to see our resolve. For it is written, Eke Kei Kie ai kiai keia Kie.¬ ¬ Tonight was such a night for me. It was a perfectly mundane thing. I went into the bathroom to relive my tiny lizard bladder. And what happened but that sudden the pencil in my hand fell into the toilet. ¬ ¬ Instantly, I knew that if I flushed, the pencil would eventually appear in my basement accompanied with some other less desirable sights. And all in all, this has happened before. The septic tank has backed up before, I mean. But due to a writing instrument? Nay, I say! Never!¬ ¬ Such an unprecedented cause would make mama and papa lanoLano immediately suspect my involvement. There would be yelling. Expressions of disappointment. Pulling out of the (proverbial) hair and ripping of the garment. ¬ ¬ But, I have been "chewed out" as you humans say before. I can handle it. It will likely handle it again.¬ ¬ And indeed, this possibility presented itself to me, in that moment, as I looked down in the urin filled toilet ball, still filling from my evacuations. It was not so articulate as all that, no, it was a shadow over my discreningdiscerning mind, and as it passed, I felt a great wrenching in my guts. No. This was not the passedpath. This was the temptations of the Demon. ¬ ¬ And so, what did I do? I had to think quickly.¬ ¬ I am not one of those lizards who relishes in my excrement. Indeed, I have trouble finding "poop" funny, if I'm being honest. So to stick my bare paw into my own urin is not something I could see myself doing easily. I tried to imagine it, but my brain rejected the idea.¬ ¬ So I had these two emotions that presented themselves as premises in my deliberation: This pencil must NOT be flushed down the toilet. And these beautiful hands must NOT be tainted by my own p***.¬ ¬ I looked at the toilet bowl. Water tinged yellow. I could barely see the eraser of the pencil, that is how deep it was in the bowl.¬ ¬ And of course, I had it. The rubber gloves in the cabinentcabinet. I took them. Seeing if they were long enough. So hard to tell...and only one way to know for sure. ¬ ¬ I put one on, on my good paw, the right one. I dunk my hand in. So far so good. Slowly, carefully, trying not to push the pencil further down the drain..damn! I pused it!¬ ¬ More carefully now, spreading my fingers, trying to grab it between them....yes! Just barely! Between my two claw tips, I began to pull the pencil out of the bowl, slowly, carefully, it could slip between my claws so easily! ¬ ¬ Sliding it along the bottom of the bowl, feeling my grasp loosening! Damn! I have a free hand, but I didn't glove it! Will it fall? WILL IT FALL?!¬ ¬ It did NOT fall, friends. Gods be praised. The pencil was rescued. I placed it on a tissue and washed the glove and my hands with soap. And disposed of the pencil.¬ ¬ Why did I have a pencil in the bathroom? Personal reasons.

Lano edited this post .

Sometimes in life, we are called to make great decisions.¬ ¬ These are times when the Dragon Gods test us. They want to see our resolve. They want US to see our resolve. For it is written, Eke Kei Kie ai kiai keia Kie.¬ ¬ Tonight was such a night for me. It was a perfectly mundane thing. I went into the bathroom to relive my tiny lizard bladder. And what happened but that sudden the pencil in my hand fell into the toilet. ¬ ¬ Instantly, I knew that if I flushed, the pencil would eventually appear in my basement accompanied with some other less desirable sights. And all in all, this has happened before. The septic tank has backed up before, I mean. But due to a writing instrument? Nay, I say! Never!¬ ¬ Such an unprecedented cause would make mama and papa Lano immediately suspect my involvement. There would be yelling. Expressions of disappointment. Pulling out of the (proverbial) hair and ripping of the garment. ¬ ¬ But, I have been "chewed out" as you humans say before. I can handle it. It will likely handle it again.¬ ¬ And indeed, this possibility presented itself to me, in that moment, as I will likely handle it again.¬ ¬ And indeed, this possibility presented itself to me, in that moment, as I looked down in the urin filled toilet ball, still filling from my evacuations. It was not so articulate as all that, no, it was a shadow over my discerning mind, and as it passed, I felt a great wrenching in my guts. No. This was not the path. This was the temptations of the Demon. ¬ ¬ And so, what did I do? I had to think quickly.¬ ¬ I am not one of those lizards who relishes in my excrement. Indeed, I have trouble finding "poop" funny, if I'm being honest. So to stick my bare paw into my own urin is not something I could see myself doing easily. I tried to imagine it, but my brain rejected the idea.¬ ¬ So I had these two emotions that presented themselves as premises in my deliberation: This pencil must NOT be flushed down the toilet. And these beautiful hands must NOT be tainted by my own p***.¬ ¬ I looked at the toilet bowl. Water tinged yellow. I could barely see the eraser of the pencil, that is how deep it was in the bowl.¬ ¬ And of course, I had it. The rubber gloves in the cabinet. I took them. Seeing if they were long enough. So hard to tell...and only one way to know for sure. ¬ ¬ I put one on, on my good paw, the right one. I dunk my hand in. So far so good. Slowly, carefully, trying not to push the pencil further down the drain..damn! I pused it!¬ ¬ More carefully now, spreading my fingers, trying to grab it between them....yes! Just barely! Between my two claw tips, I began to pull the pencil out of the bowl, slowly, carefully, it could slip between my claws so easily! ¬ ¬ Sliding it along the bottom of the bowl, feeling my grasp loosening! Damn! I have a free hand, but I didn't glove it! Will it fall? WILL IT FALL?!¬ ¬ It did NOT fall, friends. Gods be praised. The pencil was rescued. I placed it on a tissue and washed the glove and my hands with soap. And disposed of the pencil.¬ ¬ Why did I have a pencil in the bathroom? Personal reasons.

05ad6afe 1f85 4c4a 8680 4f73a3c1f45c
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Lano
last online: 11/14, 3:18
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This is me at one in the morning or later and traumatized by my pee'd up pencil.

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Lano
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verge wrote:
That's funny! A pen is keepingy hair up right now...maybe I should be careful it won't fall out.

To be honest, I wonder if the pencil, or a pen, would really back up the septic tank. Since it's so skinny. But it wasn't a chance I was willing to take.

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verge
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Haha at work today we had a plumbing guy come in to fix up the backed up system and he said the biggest problem was people putting stuff they shouldn't in the toilet.

Dr. ralph club zps9ornptsl
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You sound kind of squeamish to me. Of course I grew up the son of a veterinarian so I got to hold up bull's tails while he castrated them. Their tails are not known for being clean. Heck me and my brother used to have testicle fights where we threw the bull or pig nuts at each other. Great fun!

I had to hold pigs every Saturday at a sale barn too, so my dad could vaccinate them. They would get excited when you picked them up and urinate and defecate all over everyone involved. Add to that cleaning out horse stalls for 10 years and suddenly sticking my hand in a bowl full of my own urine doesn't seem like a problem. Been there done that without rubber gloves.

Field dressing deer is kind of gross though. The first time I pulled a steaming pile of heart, lungs and guts out of a 200 pound animal that had been alive 5 minutes ago it kind of got to me. Now I kind of enjoy it... the clean up is rough though. Rinse off your hands with a bottle of water and wipe them on the cold grass or leaves and you still look like one of Manson's crew.

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05ad6afe 1f85 4c4a 8680 4f73a3c1f45c
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DocteurRalph wrote:
You sound kind of squeamish to me. Of course I grew up the son of a veterinarian so I got to hold up bull's tails while he castrated them. Their tails are not known for being clean. Heck me and my brother used to have testicle fights where we threw the bull or pig nuts at each other. Great fun!

I had to hold pigs every Saturday at a sale barn too, so my dad could vaccinate them. They would get excited when you picked them up and urinate and defecate all over everyone involved. Add to that cleaning out horse stalls for 10 years and suddenly sticking my hand in a bowl full of my own urine doesn't seem like a problem. Been there done that without rubber gloves.

Field dressing deer is kind of gross though. The first time I pulled a steaming pile of heart, lungs and guts out of a 200 pound animal that had been alive 5 minutes ago it kind of got to me. Now I kind of enjoy it... the clean up is rough though. Rinse off your hands with a bottle of water and wipe them on the cold grass or leaves and you still look like one of Manson's crew.

I dont doubt i am. My dad butchered a pig a couple of times in our garage and seeing the decapitated pig head in a bucket is probably one of the reasons i'm a vegetarian.

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As a kid, I spent my summer/spring/xmas breaks at the grandparents' farm in Stuartburn Manitoba. Gramps had a big ol' hog barn with about 200 hogs and I'd both feed & muck out the pens. Good times indeed.

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One time my dad had a cow's head in our refrigerator in the garage. We had a refrigerator in the garage just for beer and wine and soft drinks when I was a kid. Anyway he had stuck his hand in this cow's mouth with cuts on his hand and it died a couple of days later and he thought maybe it had rabies. So the only way to find out for sure was to send the brain to Purdue University so he just cut the head off the cow and put it in a burlap bag in the garage. I was probably 8 or 10 years old and opened up that refrigerator and looked in the burlap bag. I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was around 1969.... dammmmm.

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Still not a vegetarian. I eat my steaks bloody and rare.

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Yorick
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and there was this one time .. at band camp.

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There are times in life when we must make decisions. They're provably not always great.

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