An Important Message From Brittny:

Okay Ladies,
I have struggled and struggled about whether or not to post this story. I really have. I even worried as I got on tonight! I am about to do some MAJOR self disclosure. Like, so personal that you will totally change your mind about me… either that or it will just reconfirm you preoconceived notions. I am about to share the most disgusting and embarassing story ever. Ever.That’s right Ever. It is truly terrible. My trouble is that I am so close to being discovered by people who know me. I hate that. I just want to blog and do my own thing- just say whatever I want to say! This whole topic is a post in itself. I guess I’m saying in a lot of ways you girls get to see a side of me that takes many months for others to see around me. I am in a lot of ways totally myself around you guys- not the delicate flower others know me by, especially Will’s family (haha). Anyway, I am afraid I’m about to be found and I hate that because I feel I may have to censor stuff and truly enter the WPP- that’s no fun, is it!? Today I was going to get on and do a boring generic post because of this fear, but then I got the “sweetest” feedbacks about my crazy life and felt like, “what the heck. They already know I’m an absolute crazy nut, why not share this terrible story?” so,because of your comments I feel like I owe it to myself and you all to be honest and show you who I am… though this story sort of distorts that image. Anyway, I had to put this disclaimer in so that when you finish my post you will know that I did actually think before I decided to post this totally sick story. Marisa- this is the Brittny Moment of all Brittny Moments.
Thank you.

Enjoy the show: The shortened but still graphic version.

I had quite a Christmas Night. Probably the most disgusting night of my recent life.

I so want to do this story the justice it deserves, but I don’t know where to start…

I’ll just be honest and blunt.

I 100% inherited my father’s digestive system. He would totally laugh if he heard me say that. My poor sister (sorry P- I love you and I have to drag you in this post) also suffers this terrible trait. I think she went like 8 days without “going” or some total act of God number like that more than a few times. Anyway, my digestive tract can be comapred to a fossil- rare and slow developing. The byproduct can often be compared to petrified wood (all the women reading this now wince and let out a, “gross I can’t believe she just said that in her blog!” For those of you who just said that, please stop reading now. It only gets worse… much worse.).

It is sort of a family joke. We have the slowest metabolisms known to man. I really think we qualify for scientific testing. Anyway, having a colon the size of a pencil poses many problems. Especially during this time of year when all I eat is crap. Let me tell you what has been on the menu pretty consistently the last few days: cocoa banana bread, cheese, cookies, carmel popcorn, large slabs of meat, peanut brittle, and about everything else that can be considered terrible and processed. As you can imagine, this only worsened my already bad situation. If you read for a while, you also know I don’t handle foreign bathrooms very well either! So, when you combine my wonder diet plus the intense fear of bathrooms other than my own… it’s just a bad combination.

So begins my Christmas night.

The whole family was downstairs, innocently watching the football game- full and content from the day’s festivities. “Yes! What a perfect time to sneak upstairs and totally unload myself on the poor toliet!” It’s bad enough that it suffered abuse from two adolecent boys during its day, but now it was about to face it’s scariest perpetraitor: Brittny.

So, everything goes okay. I let out a loud, “Thank you God!” as I finish because he enabled me to digest food the way normal people do- something that rarely happens without Grape Nuts or Kashi. As I get ready to flush I begin to examine the damage.

I had birthed a cat.

“Uh oh. That is so not going to flush.” I get this sinking feeling and suddenly wish my dad was around. He has plunged toliets everywhere- from Iowa to Saudi Arabia. He knows the toliet like Sara Lee knows cake. In fact, he has been given plungers as gag gifts from a few family members. Yep. That’s us. Loud and proud. Okay- not really proud. You all- besides my sister- are the only people in the world that know this undesirable information. you are so lucky!

I begin to sort of panic. “What do I do!?

I know! I read about this stuff on the nest! I can do this! Okay. First things first. I need a plunger.”

I search all cabinents and find no plunger.

Who in the world has boys and no plunger in their own man bathroom!?

“Oh my gosh! What do I do know!? Do I go downstairs as the entire family is heartfully gathered ‘round and tell them I left my own Christmas present in the toliet and probably did permanent damage and they might need to call a plumber on Christmas night!? Okay Brittny. You can’t do that.”

I am really panicking. So, I do the most logical thing: I wash my face. Yes, I am a totaly weirdo! How much more random can you get? I all cool and calmly call down to Will ( and the whole fam), “Hey sweeite! I’m going to get around for bed,” hoping that would buy me some more time to figure out what I should do.

I need to think. Think…

I keep repeating the word to myself as if some divine digestion angel was going to appear from the heavens and provide me with helpful Heloise hints or something.

I suddenly felt just like poor Harry (I think that’s his name) from Dumb and Dumber- which is so fitting for my life. I always wondered what he ended up doing during his bathroom escapade, well I didn’t have to wonder anymore- I was freaking living it!

I paced the bathroom floor knowing there was no way that puppy was going down. I thought and thought and then remembered the most outlandish story ever. “Aha!” One of my friends in high school had a similar predicament. She had just started dating this guy and knew she was about to plug up their toliet too, so she (yes, this is all true) took his dad’s beard trimmers, and cut her ____ (insert whatever disgusting word you have. I figure I’m already grossing you out, you don’t need me to be any sicker). Yes, that’s right. She really did. She was like the most serious person I knew and I was forever grossed out by the fact that someone actually did that. I mean, how totally disgusting! I mean, c’mon, You have to be BEYOND desperate to do something that psychotic.

“Great idea!” (all my nest friends disown me).

“Okay. I need something sharp… something sharp...”

I frantically begin searching for a glove: check, and something (let’s say it together) sharp. I am kind and go for Will’s drawer first, only to find noting. This creates a bad situatuion for me. I am left to search my poor and innocent brother in law’s drawer for the weapon. He didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess (ha ha), but then I rationalized: Desperate times call for desperapte measures.

I delved into the drawer and find a long silver file. Perfect! What’s he doing with a long file anyway? I then try to logically think my sick reality through, but figured I was too far in at this point (as if it were a crime or someting).

I winced and then went at it, hacking away- think Norman Bates in Psycho (as if that weren’t fitting).

I step away from the scene, satisfied by my handiwork (ew), clean and throw the weapon (and glove) away, and lysol everything. I finally go to flush, just certain it would all go down.

However, I still managed to plug the stupid toliet.

At this point I still haven’t come to my senses. I have no idea what to do. There is no way I’m going downstairs to tell Jenny I take man craps and need her assistance upstairs. No way. I call the source for all my toliet needs:

my family.

I leave the bathroom and hide in Will’s closet with the door closed. I call my sister and can’t even get a word out because I am laughing so hard. Tears are just streaming down my face, which just makes her laugh just as hard. I shamefully explain to her my predicament, through long bouts of hard laughter, and then ask for advice. Turns out, she had a similar problem at a friends birthday party a long time ago (which leads me to believe I am not the only distorted person in the world...). We both agree that Will has to be informed and has to help me undo my do (thanks Pdub- you’re the best). I hang up and close the bathroom door, praying to God that the smell wouldn’t llinger its way down to the fam.

I nervously watch the last half of the game, praying that no one will go upstairs. Then it happens. My MIL gets up during commercial and goes up stairs. I want to laugh and cry simlutaneously. I really wanted to let out one of those slow motion, Nooooooo"s like they do in the movies, but I refrained.

Praise the Lord.

She was just changing a light bulb.

She lets out a “whoo!” which I am certain is from the kids in the pool hanging out in the toliet, and then comes down staris. Yes, not only did I sleep with her, but now she knows my brand.

Will went in the computer room to check his fantasy football and I innocently followed him to tell him about my problem. I thought he was going to be totally revolted and never sexually attracted to me ever again, but he totally laughed too. It was hilarious. He knows me so well at this point- he is not surprised by this crazy shenanigan. He tells me he will get the plunger- which is in the garage! (how unhandy is that!!?? Why even have a plunger if you have to waddle with your pants down to the garage to get it as water spills all over the bathroom floor?)- and will take care of it after the game. After the game! Do you know how long that is!? Someone might die from toxic fumes if this isn’t taken care of now! He assures me it will be okay. I worry, as usual.

After the game- and after everyone went to bed- he got the goods and went upstairs. “I love you and am not going to let you plunge my poop.”

“I love you too stinky, and you better just let me do it the right way.”

Ah, nothing was hotter than seeing my knight in shining armour, clad with his rubber gloves and sword (plunger), pounding away at his porcelain throne. I fell in love all over again.

Now that is true love.

After the drama we went to bed, laughing really hard. “Why did you use a file anyway?”

(in a no brainer, “duh” sort of voice) “Because the scissors weren’t long enough!”

(through lots of laughter) “You are a weirdo.”
<3

So that’s the main jist of my demented story. I’m too tired to be funny and witty, so I just provided the raw and horrifying facts-and I can’t believe I just threw that up all over myself so you could all read about my many oddities and shortcomings. I can almost guarantee I will regret this in the morning and will delete this bad boy as soon as I get the chance! At least I was honest in this post and didn’t let others scare me from being my crazy self… right?

I could go on and on, but I’m tired. Have a good night. Hopefully I will be on before we fly back.
I miss you. <3