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I had a fight with a roll of toilet paper.
I sorta won. But it mighta been a tie.
Norma, the receptionist here at work, is at it again.
She’s commenting on how nice my clothes smell.
She asked me if I’m using the same detergent.
I said no. I’m using Sun.
She said maybe it’s your bath soap.
Maybe I said.
What is it? She said.
Ivory, I said.
Mmm, she said while walking away.
She’s a flake.
No pun intended.
I’m imagining my bed moving across the floor, and there’s a smile on my face.
The war is on...the toilet paper is not happy...
