The Raw Sewage Tweets (Collect Them All)

Changed the litter tonight. But by the morning the cats will have left me a surprise. Not exactly buried treasure, since they don't bury it.

There's several good things you can say about cats. 1, unless they're really, really sick, they don't do it on the floor. Very disciplined.

But I see them in the box a lot. One eats his breakfast, then I'm getting mine, next thing I see his head sticking out of the box.

It's not a pleasant sight, but like I say, they have the discipline not to do it on the floor.

I'm more of a dog person, but dogs need all kinds of help. I have my dog out so many times a day! A vampire couldn't own a dog.

The process of digestion waits for no man. It's always "ready or not, " as regular as clockwork.

I've heard of saints who didn't really have to go to the bathroom, like Therese Newman, I believe her name was. Saved on toilet paper.

She just layed in bed and ate air or something. And air doesn't need digested, just breathed back out. I think she ate sunshine.

Something like that she supposedly ate, very lightweight stuff. Wouldn't be enough to fill me up, a few watts off a light bulb.

It'd be great to be a saint who could lay in bed all day, though. I don't know. I guess there's advantages to getting up. Like a life.

I myself ate regular meals today, including going out for Mexican food for dinner. That's around 20 bucks plus tip, so it's not cheap.

I could've gone to DQ, had a flaming burger, some fries, a drink, and a sundae for under $15 and no tip. So maybe I should've.

I'm disciplined to a certain extent. But then once in a while we feel like splurging a bit.

Anyway, I'm like the cats ... when tomorrow gets here it doesn't matter if you ate steak or canned soup.

The guy at the sewage plant stands there with his big rake and knows you're awake. Always monitoring the intake.

If I worked at the sewage plant I'd keep it very impersonal. Like I'd monitor the flow but just average it out.

I'd guess tours at the sewage plant include a lot of laughter. Like "You can set your watch to it, the toilets flushing at 8 a.m." Ha, ha.

I think of that in the morning while going to the bathroom. Like, How long does it take for this to get to the sewage plant? Do they notice?

Let's say you work at the sewage plant and you have a sore stomach or a migraine. You feel like ---- and you know exactly what that means!

Sewage plants loomed large in my imagination as a kid too. We had one at our town we always drove by, big metal domes over it, sanitary.

You figure, it's domed and round. There must be a big scooper under there stirring it all up. Then it turns into varnish and they sell it.

It was different at some of the smaller towns, like where I also lived. It was just out there in the noonday sun in a big square pool.

They had signs on it that said "RAW SEWAGE. NO SWIMMING." Most people violate a rule here or there. I never knew anyone to violate this one.

Surprisingly it didn't stink. But I never got that close. The worst one that stunk was one that I believe was enclosed, but maybe not.

We used to think anyone who worked around the stinky one would go home with an apparent beard like Fred Flintstone's.

The intake valve on your face, continuing to breath, would be plugged up. Then the creeping brown would outline Fred's beard shape.