"On tonight's news, the commissioner of baseball

"On tonight's news, the commissioner of baseball declares war, terror lurks in every shadow, and SHARKS." Crap, I forget to recycle just once, then the world goes haywire. I had to

take a dump but I was no where near my house. I had PRA, Public Restroom Anxiety. I started shaking when I saw that the nearest restroom was a gas station bathroom.

What made it worse was that I also suffered from a pretty bad case of IBS. Public Restroom Anxiety + IBS = Sheer Terror. Quaking with each step, I made it into the stall & sat down

I'd I stuffed my pant legs in my socks to keep them off the public restroom floor & used the last seat liner before I saw the only toilet paper roll on its side on the floor. Panic

ensued as I searched for alternatives. On the wall was a hand dryer, the kind that blasts your hands dry when you insert them. Can that really be sanitary? What about the drops of

urine that could remain on your hands? I wouldn't risk having others' pee on my fingers. It's just plain old

superstition, I know, but I've always believed that if alien pee touches any of my digits then harvests will fail in the Northern hemisphere for 7 years. It's quite a responsibilit

y, working in an alien nursing home. I finished wiping up after the intergalactic geezer, and quickly washed my hands. Back in the common room, there were many elderly, disabled

protariarchs that we had "rescued" from the catacombs on Mars. They seemed to have trouble dealing with our usual four dimensions, and the nursing home staff had a high turnover be

cause they had injected the unwilling pastry with a high dose of mescaline. The turnover hallucinated wildly, thinking it was a senior eating himself to death.