This Is Horrifyingly True

After my mom's surgery she was told she would need a stool softener because the medications she was on would make it difficult for her to poop. When I went grocery shopping with my father, he insisted on calling it a stool sampler. I didn't correct him, because a) it was hilarious and b) I didn't want to deal with the inevitable fight that occurs whenever I point out he's wrong.

For V- Day today, I was given a Whitman's Sampler of chocolates. Now I can't eat them.

You figure out why.


And now, my Valentine to each and every one of you. It's got something for everyone, I think.

You, ah, might not want to open it at work. Or around children. Or other people.

Happy Valentine's Day!