January 27th, 2014
I'm pretty sure I read Justin Erik Halldór Smith's Thomas Friedman Clogged My Toilet a couple of years ago, but as far as I can tell I didn't post about it. It's long past time that I rectified that omission:
It is not for nothing that some years ago I sought out a home with a semi-secret 1/2-bath in the basement, for who has not at some point been at a social gathering, and preferred to reabsorb rank toxins through the intestinal walls, rather than to risk, by the emanation of one's own stench even through a closed bathroom door, being found out as a defecator? This, I've long believed, has been the key to my reputation as a host.