Spit spit spit spit I gotta spit. A case of the dry mouth, is this what the doctor was warning me about? Is it time to break out the spit? I case I haven’t mentioned it, or in case you forgot, one of the unexpected things I received recently was a FedEx package.
You get, I get, we all get ‘em. But, I didn’t order this one. It came unannounced, from someone I don’t know. I rack my brain for things I might have ordered on line, nada. I rack my brain for people I have pissed off enough to make them want to send my a bomb, nada. I think really, really hard for people I’ve been nice enough to that they would send me a gift in thanks, short think, nada.
So I carefully open it, and it’s spit. Dried spit, not the expectorated kind just dried on the inside of the package but teeny tiny foil packets containing instant spit. I calculate that there’s 450 spatooies of spit in there.
Happy days, under doctors orders I can spit up to 10 times a day and I got to spit, instructions say not to swallow, I got to spit. Hot damn I’m getting a spittoon at my desk, they are going to hate it.
Life is good
Laissez les bons temps rouler
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