PRS Operatives, using sophisticated listening devices while on assignment in the area of the Casa d’Elisson, happened to pick up the following exchange while Mr. Debonair hisownself entered the toidy to begin his morning ritual:
Elisson: yawwwwwn
Toilet Seat: Hold it right there, Bucko!
Elisson: What??
Toilet Seat: You heard me! I said, “Hold it right there!”
Elisson: Who’s that talking?
Toilet Seat: It’s me, Numb Nuts – the toilet seat.
Elisson: That’s crazy. Toilet seats can’t talk.
Toilet Seat: Oh, really? Do you see anyone else in this bathroom? Put your ear down here.
Elisson: (bends over to listen)
Toilet Seat: Turd in the toidy, one, two, three. I am the seat: Don’t piss on me.
Elisson: Holy crap! A talking toilet seat. I gotta blog this.
Toilet Seat: Blog schmog. Just lift me up before you begin the morning spray, dammit.
Elisson: I don’t have to lift you. I’ve got the aim of a Marine sniper, and I have total control. Hell, I can write my name in the snow.
Toilet Seat: Maybe twenty years ago you could piss into a Coke bottle, but that was before you began getting up six times a night to take a leak. Nowadays its Spritz City with you, and it’s even worse in the mornings before you put your damned glasses on.
Elisson: Did my wife put you up to this?
Toilet Seat: No. This is just something I’ve been meaning to bring to your attention for quite a while.
Elisson: Oh, I get it – a friend-to-friend, guy-to-guy kinda thing.
Toilet Seat: Yeah, right, a friend-to-friend thing. Hey, seeing as how we’re friends, have you heard the one about the priest, the rabbi and the colander?
Elisson: Dammit, now I know my wife put you up to this!
SWMBO a/k/a Mrs. Elisson: (Knocking on door) Who are you talking to in there?
Elisson: Uh...I’m on my cell phone.
SWMBO: No you’re not. Your cell phone is on the kitchen table. Who the hell are you talking to?
Elisson: OK, if you must know, I’m talking to the toilet seat.
SWMBO: God help me.
Elisson: yawwwwwn
Toilet Seat: Hold it right there, Bucko!
Elisson: What??
Toilet Seat: You heard me! I said, “Hold it right there!”
Elisson: Who’s that talking?
Toilet Seat: It’s me, Numb Nuts – the toilet seat.
Elisson: That’s crazy. Toilet seats can’t talk.
Toilet Seat: Oh, really? Do you see anyone else in this bathroom? Put your ear down here.
Elisson: (bends over to listen)
Toilet Seat: Turd in the toidy, one, two, three. I am the seat: Don’t piss on me.
Elisson: Holy crap! A talking toilet seat. I gotta blog this.
Toilet Seat: Blog schmog. Just lift me up before you begin the morning spray, dammit.
Elisson: I don’t have to lift you. I’ve got the aim of a Marine sniper, and I have total control. Hell, I can write my name in the snow.
Toilet Seat: Maybe twenty years ago you could piss into a Coke bottle, but that was before you began getting up six times a night to take a leak. Nowadays its Spritz City with you, and it’s even worse in the mornings before you put your damned glasses on.
Elisson: Did my wife put you up to this?
Toilet Seat: No. This is just something I’ve been meaning to bring to your attention for quite a while.
Elisson: Oh, I get it – a friend-to-friend, guy-to-guy kinda thing.
Toilet Seat: Yeah, right, a friend-to-friend thing. Hey, seeing as how we’re friends, have you heard the one about the priest, the rabbi and the colander?
Elisson: Dammit, now I know my wife put you up to this!
SWMBO a/k/a Mrs. Elisson: (Knocking on door) Who are you talking to in there?
Elisson: Uh...I’m on my cell phone.
SWMBO: No you’re not. Your cell phone is on the kitchen table. Who the hell are you talking to?
Elisson: OK, if you must know, I’m talking to the toilet seat.
SWMBO: God help me.
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