(Timmy: You could write a preface, too. Write “This is what Timmy Bee and Jenny Bee wrote at the airport…”
Jenny: *Death Stare*)
P.S. But really, what Timmy said above.
They entered the airport and found the most convenient, closest yet antisocial seats they could. After more than a week together, they (somehow) had not grown tired of each other yet. Their time together is not yet over, though, as they are now headed back to Jennybee’s hometown to meet the family.
“I need to poop,” Jennybee thought. But airport toilets always run out of tissues. She has nothing to wipe her butt. No tabos at airports either. Why does the conversation always go back to poop?
Little did she know, moments ago, Timmybee had the same thought as she did. Then, he too remembered the horrors of an airport bathroom. He wasn’t so much looking for a tabo as he still isn’t quite sure what one is. Isn’t it just a bucket? Why don’t they call it bucket? Hopefully if Timmybee does poop at Jennybee’s house there is toilet paper because if not then he’ll have to ask his new in-laws how to use a tabo. He can probably figure it out himself, but this will likely result in poop running down the back of his legs.
Okay. Something has to be said here. For ALL you non-Filipinos, let me inform you that normal, typical Filipino families could function and get rid of their poop butt stains perfectly fine WITHOUT toilet paper. Because of our poverty, we have learned how to survive without toilet paper, that first world luxury. However, it isn’t enough to just say this to Timmybee. Jennybee would have to show him how to do it. And she will. Once she could relieve her bowels at the hotel in *undisclosed location because bees are paranoid*.
Okay. Something has to be said here. Jennybee is the one who brought up poop here, not me. I was writing a really sweet story about two lovers traveling to visit the family. It was going to be beautiful. There was a unicorn in it. A rainbow too. I think there was even plans for a sequel with dancing donuts and the second coming of Christ was going to take place in the fifth act. It was going to be an opus that would create orgasms from eunuchs (those are the people without balls). Instead, this has turned into smut again. So let’s get back on track into a beautiful story:
“What if sex ended with someone pooping as the climax?” Jennybee asked the stranger beside her, just to make some light small-talk.
“Doesn’t it always end that way?” said the dark brown-skinned stranger with a mole between his eyes.
Timmybee shoved Jennybee to sit beside the stranger instead. He has fallen in love.
Who has Timmybee fallen in love with you ask? Well it’s himself. There is a mirror nearby. Those rippling muscles. That unkempt hair. Although Jennybee sees him as a dark-skinned stranger with a mole it is because she had her glasses broken when she made a really intense poop earlier today. You know, those poops where they are so powerful they shatter glass? That’s the kind she had.
A girl with green hair approaches. She grabbed a Timmybee body part. He wanted to end the blog post with the line “Then he poops candy”. But that’s a lie. I’ve tasted it. It’s nothing like candy at all.
The girl with green hair is naked under her tunic. She also has green pubic hair. People live on it.
They are looking at us.
(Note: There was a little debate after hitting on ‘Publish’ for this post. Timmy and I can’t agree if the little people live ON the green pubic hair or WITHIN it or maybe INSIDE the follicles. We lost correspondence with these little citizens. So we leave it up to you to decide.)