Sometimes You're The Windshield

I've been accused of lying to you wonderful people. Some evil bitch, who shall remain nameless, said I "need" to be "honest" about my post below, "Come On Eileen".

I was honest. I swear. Pinky swear, even. I simply left out one tiny detail. I didn't know I would always have to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me blog. But to get the said evil one off of my back, I guess I have to spill. (This right here is reason 8,672, why not to tell the whole story to anyone in person, ever. Especially an evil bitch.)

While in the nasty restroom, when I could finally take to the throne, something crawled on me. Let me back up and explain. I was wearing one of those stretchy t-shirts that had rode up my back while I was hunched over, trying to catch my overalls before they fell to the floor.

As soon as my body was back in an upright position, something was trying to crawl into the top of my ass crack. Yes, I did let out a loud, high-pitched scream. No, I am not afraid of bugs. Normally, I just squash 'em, but this one was on me! And it was trying to crawl into my ass! Yeah, I screamed, like the girl I am.

I gave myself a reach around to grab hold of the bug, to squish it to death for trying to invade my ass. I grabbed hold of it, in a pinching movement, I grabbed it, squeezed, really hard and yanked my hand away. Everything would have been perfectly fine at that very moment, had what I grabbed and pulled, actually been a bug.

It wasn't a bug on me as I had imagined, it was the ends of my hair tickling my ass crack as I leaned back. So that "bug" I squished and pulled away from my ass crack, was actually my own hair. And yes, I pulled hard. Hard enough to rip a small pinched handful out.

Today's story comes with three lessons. One, never tell someone something unless you want everyone to know. Two, if your hair is long enough to tickle your ass crack, you probably should get it cut! And three, sometimes, you are the bug.