Brownbuddy: My wife chastised me for texting while pooping. I told her that everyone does it … it’s called “browntexting”.

Me: Ha. Added to my vocabulary.

BB: The font colour should change automatically.

Me: You are a genius today.


BB: I’ve got a Pavlovian thing going on where I always think of you instead of Drew Barrymore when I crap.

Me: I like the idea that most normal people would think of Drew Barrymore under those circumstances.

BB: Sure … you know the thing where you’re certain that all of her dumps happen simultaneously with yours? Kind of like quantum entanglement, but with pooping.

Me: It’s similar to déjà poo, the feeling you’ve excreted the exact same meal sometime before.

BB: YES! Anyway, because my idea of browntexting went over so well I always think of you as soon as I sit on the can.

Me: It’s nice to be thought of.


BB: Leftover hamburger buns + variety of sub deli meats + leftover lasagna sauce + cheese = delicious lunch + smooth, punctual poops.

BB: I sent that browntext to my wife first by mistake. Mixing browntexts and sexts is probably not a good idea unless you’re German.

Me: I know what you mean. I’ve sent your wife about a dozen sexts that were meant for you. It worked out, though.


BB: Last night my wife asked me who I was browntexting. The lingo is really catching on!

Me: Let’s get it into the Oxford dictionary as Word of the Year.

BB: Instead of saying she’s going to the bathroom, she now says she’s going to “text Peter Lynn”.

Me: I’m the man you see about a horse.

BB: Yeah, a BROWN horse.

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