My copy of The Da Vinci Code has been passed around from person to person over the last year or so--since I first bought it. It has been read by a lot of people, which is weird because there's something so intimate about letting somebody borrow a book that's not there with like, a DVD, or a rubber vagina. It has been from hill to dale and back again, but, alas, I've learned of its untimely demise. While it has probably traveled over hundreds of miles and been in dozens of people's hands, it left this world in that very place it loved the most: the bathroom.
The strangest thing about letting somebody borrow a book is that you know that they're going to take that to the bathroom with them. There's nothing else that's like this; especially because that book is going to be touched so soon after the person wipes their ass, masturbates, or washes the blood of a teenage runaway from their hands. If I wanted to borrow something from somebody, like an umbrella, and I said, "Thanks, I'm going to go shit now and wipe my hands all over it," I'd never be allowed to borrow something from that person again. But with books, this is understood and never discussed. So, in a way, I'm glad that it got ruined.
My friend, who shall only be referred to as "Ryan," borrowed this book from me. Now, Ryan's not really known for his library of books, so I knew it would be a while to get the book back. I had gone to his house on a couple of occasions and seen the book sitting dangerously close to the toilet with the spine on the floor and the pages kind of fanning toward the ceiling. This put the edges of the pages rife for gathering splashback from the urine that would be slamming against the porcelain. I've heard Ryan pee before and he pees like he's trying to put a hole in the toilet or win that game at the fair where you shoot the watergun into the clown's mouth, so I knew that the book was in the process of getting ruined.
Basically, it was ruined when he tried to take it into the shower with him. I guess their relationship had moved from just the occasional golden shower to the actual shower. He says it was on the floor of his bathroom near the shower and the water spilled over on it, but I know the truth. He was liking the book so much, that he decided to take it to the next level and have sex with it in the shower. I did the exact same thing with my favorite book; I've ruined nine bibles this way.
I respond to reader comments:
Our good friend Jimbo the Angry Clown writes:
I just created a link and posted it on WinMx. I labeled it "Midget Porn" though. I figure this will provide you with much more interesting reader responses for you to comment on.I'm looking forward to the influx of angry Midget Porn connoisseurs that this will bring to the site. That's the corner of the Internet market that I've been trying to reach out to, but wasn't quite sure how. And you, much like tiny midget penises in the films they're wanting to watch, have filled that small hole.
Thanks, Jimbo, Flesh, and Mellody. Flesh, it looks like your way worked the best as the woman who you donkey punched while screaming my website showed up and stayed long enough to comment. I guess there's not much else to do but surf the Internet while you're waiting for your asshole to close up enough so that when you stand up shit doesn't just fall right out.
Comment below more stories about how you're getting the word of my site out (breaking the law is O.K.--vandalism a plus) or about whatever else you want. Or, as always, you can email me.