Things you should never ask your kids

As I walk into the bathroom, I come to the sudden realization that my son has learned how to dispense the TOILET PAPER , as I stand there in wild wonder thinking who does that stuff I say "Who does that stuff!!"
And my son, the intelligent young man that he is, looks me dead in the eye and says........"Me."
So in conclusion, as a rule of thumb, never ask your kid," Who does that stuff."

Who invented potty training

I am not sure who invented potty training but that person never had kids of their own. The very idea of putting a child who does not have a good grasp on the process of going to the bathroom, in a pair of underwear is NUTS. Lets start with the little things, like, oh I don't know,pulling your pants all the way down before you crap, or actually going to the kamode to piss instead of in your spiderman underoos, down your leg, onto your foot, and finally onto the mystery spot in the house, only to be found 2 days later by that "hobo like scent."



And the best is yet to come.



Whenyou are walking through the house and realize that you smell something "crappy", but are not sure where it is coming from, and then you realize the enemy has figured out how to pull down his pants and crap on the floor. Another mystery spot soon to be discovered in the middle of the night when the lights are off and all you want is a smoke, the rest of that beer you had left and to go back to bed but........SURPRISE, oh honey I found where he pooed.



In conclusion, to the person or persons who invented potty training,



I say................................



Watch your step asshole!!!!

Heaping Dish of Dysentery?

I'm sitting in the crapper for the 4th or 5th time at work...*Note to self---no more Kung Pao and Corn Pudding* and it's the weekend, so there's an attendant in the bathroom. Ya, this casino is high end. Anyway, I've got time to kill while my intestines are slowly making their way to the pristine commode and the man that is attending the restroom is striking up a conversation with who the hell knows and here's the conversation:

"I miss the faucets that you turned on yourself and towels that you had to hand crank to get the towels out and toilets you actually had to flush by hand...blah, blah, blah"

*See at our high end casino, everything is pretty much automated with the exception of wiping your own ass*

My thought: Gee, you know what I miss? Polio. Hey, dumbass! We're trying to prevent the spread of germs! It's bad enough people HAVE wiped their own ass and didn't wash their hands and then go into the kitchen and cook and now YOU actually know the frequency of my bowel habits today!

I wonder what kind of tip you'd have to leave the attendant to get him to wipe your ass so he won't be so bored and lonely and he can go wherever and spread my dysentery.