Antique Toilets, Paul Bunyon, Michael Jackson, and Elvis: The Perfect Orgy?

I’ve always wondered why there is no market for antique toilets.

I recently met a man who claimed to have Michael Jackson’s toilet, the one he flushed the other glove down. I think he’s full of…glove.

I decided right away that I could easily top that, so I said that was nothing, I had the toilet that Elvis died on. If only the porcelain could speak, it would tell me the King’s last words.

I first became aware of how the legend died from a guy at my Taekwondo class who had a crush on me. He swept me off my feet with the words, “He died taking a dump!” At that moment, I knew he was the one for me. I don’t even remember how that came up.

I wrote a poem about Elvis once (sort of). Apparently Elvis killed Babe the Blue Ox (sort of).

I came across one by Robert Frost, “Paul’s Wife,” about Paul Bunyon carving himself a wife out of a tree (He liked wood, I get it, but doesn’t he realize there are dolls that won’t give him splinters?). It was boring and stupid and way too long, and I decided I could do better. So I did better, in just eight lines.

Paul never was one to follow trends

Until, one day, said one of his friends,

“You’ve worked too hard, it’s taken its toll;

You need something new; try rock and roll.”

So Paul left work, and came back the next day

And Paul was there, but where was Babe?

They never did find her, but have you heard the news?

Paul got himself some blue suede shoes!