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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