Doodyville
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for good.
Today, a four-year-old told me he was potty-trained. This, reader, was a lie. I didn’t know it til he was fighting for his life on the toilet (eat some fiber, kid), and creating a radioactive atmosphere from the depths of… Continue reading
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doodyville, usa.
My grandparents used to let us (make us?) watch a show called Howdy Doody. If you know what that is, I’m so sorry. If you don’t, fear not. I have resources. It’s an old TV show from the late 1940s… Continue reading

