Fresh Baked Brownies

I've just been notified that it is in fact not a sign of masculinity to crap yourself outside of your own apartment complex. That's right, I had the urge to fart as I was putting things in the car; it felt like a code green and suddenly it seeped into a code brown.....right when the apartment manager came home, got out of the car, and proceeded to talk to me. I walked all so calmly back up to my door with my legs tightly closed like I was trying to start a fire with my knee caps. Right after that, my wife was knocking on the door just as I realized I locked the glass door. I mean, what could I do other than scream at her saying, "Pull on it!" "Wiggle it around a little!"? So I'm sitting there on the toilet with wet underwear leaning forward just enough to see my wife standing there at the door, holding the baby and I'm yelling obscenities, it's like Circus Ole, but without the excessive drinking. I think I might have to go to a specialist and have my fertilizer cannon sewn up or something....Don't you just love true stories?

I guess the most I can do today is just read the latest Batman Comics and try to get sex for the fourth time today. It's not like I had a plan or anything.