My last post spoke of Sevillan shit-stained sidewalks, sanitation sorrows, sodomizing Senoras (that is to say, Senoras who sodomize, not the act of sodomizing any particular Senora…Vincent…), sumptuous 90’s sing-along songs, Spanish semantics, spontaneous Scottish sprees, and supper-table shame. All alliteration aside, for some reason or another it turned out to be an excrement heavy entry. Perhaps I view the world with shit colored glasses (these days, I’m not even sure what color that would be…), but whatever the reason, I seem to be inextricably linked with bathroom goings-on. I have recently contracted a bit of stomach sickness. I find myself entering the bathroom these days with what I call an anti-Jellybean mentality; upset when I get red, orange, or yellow, and elated with the blacks and browns. I spend more time in the bathroom than
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