Tondar's Daily Rant

Prepare yourself for the writings of Tondar the Destroyer, Baron of Atlanta, Rightful Heir to the Throne of Spain, from whom all babies come. As his will be blogged, so let it be done.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008


Last night I had a frightening dream. I was using the toilet of a friend here in Nashville when I actually pooped 3 submarine sandwiches, 2 croissants, and several logs of various sizes and circumferences. I was instantly shocked and horrified as I contemplated my next move remembering that if a toilet could not handle old cilantro, it would never handle the smörgåsbord of despair my body cooked up. And just at that moment the mass of tondar waste in the toilet triggered a clogging flush leaving me to stare in horror as an intestinal-made sub sandwich taunted me as it was rejected from the vortex and floated on the surface with half of my motherload of humiliation.

At this point I woke up and was delighted to find that I did not soil myself in the night. These days I have to take the victories where I can get them.


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