Bessssssssssssssst Day of My Life!!!! :) Seriously. Best. Day. Ever.

Next to marrying my hottie pie hubby, this was, and I mean it, the best day of my life.

This is just a precursor to a future, more detailed post, but I just had to share my ridiculously happy adventure!

Can I pet your face, mama?

Now, just so you know, the lovely people who run this amazing Otter Heaven don’t let the otters stick their paws in your mouth. This one just snuck her little paw onto my lip and I wasn’t about to complain. Having an otter on my mug is pretty much my biggest dream come true! But the wonderful otter parents always made sure both me and my sweet little otter buddies were safe and happy. I’d say they succeeded beautifully!

Kissy kiss kiss kiss!

Kissy kiss kiss kiss!

"...sunshine, on my otter, makes me happy..." (to the tune of Sunshine on my Shoulders) :)

“…sunshine, on my otter, makes me happy…” (to the tune of Sunshine on my Shoulders) 🙂

Me, deliriously happy, staring at otters as they stalked their prey (me!).

Me, deliriously happy, staring at otters as they stalked their prey (me!).

 

Help! I'm getting otter mugged! (I'm in HEAVEN!!)

Help! I’m getting otter mugged! (I’m in HEAVEN!!) And yes, there is an otter head in my cleavage. Stinker!

In all my life I never dreamed that I would be this blessed.

I’ve always joked that when I die, and hopefully go to Heaven, that God will let me frolic around with a bunch of non-pooping otters. Yes. I’m not even kidding. That’s my idea of Heaven.

And that dream came true and I didn’t even have to die. Yay!

JODI LOVES OTTERS!!!!!!

 

I have officially seen it all. Good grief.

Okay, so those of you who know me know that as far a I’m concerned, women never have to “use the bathroom” for anything besides powdering their noses.

I don’t like bathroom talk.

If I could, I’d pretend bathrooms don’t exist.

I don’t wanna know what goes on it one, why I shouldn’t “go in there for 20 minutes” or anything else related to bathroom things. It’s just gross.

Otters

In Heaven I WILL ROLL AROUND WITH OTTERS!!!

You guys have heard me before say that my idea of heaven is that when I die God will let me play with a truckload of non-pooping otters. It’s not heaven if they poop on you.puking dog

So, needless to say when I saw the latest Cottonelle ad I almost threw up in my mouth, out of my mouth, on to the cats and all over the floor.

Seriously, don’t we all know the purpose of toilet paper?

I kinda wanna kill her. ;)

I kinda wanna kill her. 😉

Do we really need a commercial where a girl in white pants, who has clearly snorted too much blow, asks a man if he thinks this new TP  is so good that he can go commando? (Cause there are just so many new fangled things one can do to TP to make it tons better—ugh, idiots.) And I love that they picked someone with a delightfully cheery British accent…does that somehow make it more proper to discuss your bowels and what they do?? Good Lord…

Anyway, apparently, rippled TP is the first and only difference between having a poopy butt and not having one. Does this mean we’ve all walked around nasty our entire lives until this particular TP? Yay! Saved by new TP! Now I can have a friend or two because I’m not basking in my own glorious filth all day, every day.

While I am loathe to give this gross and disgusting company any publicity, click on Miss Poo’s jolly face to watch the revolting video where, when you get down to it, she’s asking strangers, “Can you wipe your ass well enough to not get filth all over the inside of your pants?” I mean, c’mon people? Really? Is NOTHING SACRED ANYMORE!!!???? Must we talk about mookie stinks making a permanent home on your panties in such graphic and disgusting detail on television???

So, here’s what I vote for.

Below is the kind of TP ad I wanna see (though I’d rather see none at all!).

The TV screen would be all white with a still shot of a roll of pristine TP (and maybe an otter or two) and it would have a voiceover that read:

Hi.

This TP is not made of razor blades.

This TP will not cause you to bleed, get herpes or go insane.

Use it like you’ve been using TP for decades and it’ll do about the same thing that all others do.

Oh, it’s a little softer, if you like that kind of thing.

Now, go back to your happy life and forget I’ve just spent 15 seconds talking about your ass and its relationship with TP.

Thank you and good night.

That’s all I need to know, dammit!

I need nothing more than that and I’m good.

So can we please just say no to these kinds of ads?

Plus, I’m a Charmin girl anyway.

I had an 11th grade student of mine 100 years ago when I taught high school write a poem about me and my butt being squeezable like Charmin*. Lordy, those kids were wonderfully inappropriate. Anyway, I’ve been a Charmin girl ever since cause it still makes me giggle.

Okay, no more butt talk. I’m out.

*Click here to hear Mr. Whipple yet at women for squeezing the Charmin. 😉