I have literally been waiting 2 hours to poop.

I was (not) born with a pencil in my hand, I've lived with a pencil in my hand, had my first relationship with a pencil in my hand, plan on getting married and having children with a pencil in my hand, have sat on the toilet with a pencil on my hand, and will die with a pencil in my hand

Me: //thought of something really funny// Shoot! I need to write this down! //looks around for something to write on, tries toilet paper but it doesn't work, lead won't show up on the stall, pants are too dark to see words// Oh no.. //looks forward and sees a sheet of paper towel under stall door// ...

Random Girl: //washed hands and was standing in front of sink, checking hair// Hm. //hears shoes squeak on floor and stalls shake// Huh? //turns around and sees me// ..

Me: //crawled out from under stall and was trying to get the paper towel with tongue sticking out a little and pencil clenced in right hand, sees her// ...

Random Girl: ...

Me: ... //slowly reaches for paper towel and snatches it up before retreating back into the dimness of the stall I'm in//

Random Girl: //horrified, never used the stall again//

I'm worried that when I accidentally grunt or groan sometimes when lifting something up or something will one day make me accidentally moan. But the thing is: I'm too awesome to moan. So sex will be very bland. 

There's 327 things I need to worry about and one of them is that I'll forget something funny I thought of

If you have a problem with this post you can take it up with my me. I am my own lawyer, editor, secretary, boss, manager, author, writer-

3 hours later

idea giver, dictionary and I ran out of clever things to say