The other day I was in the shower, and the soap slipped out of my hand. As I bent over to pick it up, I saw something in my shower drain staring back at me. It seemed to give me a menacing, mischievous grin; and I saw it locking its gaze at me. Now I (at the risk of sounding a tad narcissistic) am probably the biggest stud that ever walked the face of the Earth. I had no idea what this little drain-troll could find wrong with me, a modern-day Charles Atlas. I called down to it, “What the heck is so funny? I am the one in the shower, and you are the one caught beneath the grating!” As soon as I uttered these words, he tightened his eyes on me.
I could feel my ears and neck begin to boil. I entreated the beastie to release me from his trance, and he said, “You f—ing moron. You are the one with the water set to 120 degrees. I was only trying to see the 3-D picture above you on the ceiling. I still can’t figure it out.”
“That’s easy, it’s a sailboat.”
“Dammit. I thought it was a naked lady.”