Tag Archives: weird youtube videos

Because It’s Monday, and I’m Surprised Jimmy Fallon was Actually Funny

Though technically Monday is my Sunday? Regardless, I think we could all use a little T-Pain.

Side note: Were the Emmys actually good last night? I can’t even tell. I just get excited when my name trends on twitter for 24 hours. But I think NPH is the delicious snack cake of the entertainment world: Nobody doesn’t like Doogie.

That’s not how it went down, but it’s how I saw it.


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Oh no, don’t go: Or, I did not mean this blog title literally.

So, the socially acceptable part of me says

“Emmy, why would you make the third ever post on your blog about peeing in the shower? Why would you do that?” And probably, I’m just that sort of person. So here! Here is a Brazilian ad urging citizens to conserve water and “Xixi no banho.” Or “Pee in the bath,” as I’m given to understand.

Hey now! That last one is just King Kong peeing off the side of the Empire State Building! In a rainstorm! God help the New Yorker that forgot their umbrella on that day. Also, a giant monkey might destroy their city.

You know what? I’m a pretty gross person. I’ll wear the same jeans four days in a row. My work shoes recently had to be thrown out because they attracted ants. And I only really shower every other day, tops. So when I get around to the chore that is showering, I’m not gonna ruin it by peeing all over myself.

Fun Fact: At my old apartment in Oakland, CA, the only thing my roommate and I could do to contribute to the county’s imposed 10% water reduction goal was to religiously follow the “If it’s yellow, leave it mellow” directive that California residents will remember from the 90’s. Single baker girls that we were, we barely showered, only ran the dishwasher once a week, and took our laundry home every weekend because we never had quarters. It worked great except that we quickly realized there was an upper limit to how many pees you could get per flush, especially with our already clog-prone toilet. I’m sure the neighbors were appalled at the daily plunging sounds coming from such polite young ladies.

Probably that’s why we didn’t get invited back to the labor day dinner party. Or because the previous year my roommate, who’d been up since 4:30, poured diet coke into her champagne glass for the toast. But that’s another story.

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