Let's write a song!

Have you ever seen the little joke that occasionally makes the rounds? It's about growing up poor  with only one bar of soap in the house and how everyone uses the same bar until it's like the size of a quarter (and you have to pick a hair or two out of it now and then) and you just know your old man has cleaned his, er, sphincter with it.

I know that in my own birth family that was the case. One bar of soap for everyone. One tube of toothpaste. Ick.

In our house we do share a bar of soap in the shower, but it's just the two of us. Haha, not the first time we've swapped germs. I do have a different bar for my face, the Dial soap we use is like putting acetone on my old lady skin.

So anyway. I said all that to say this.

You know the song Riders On The Storm, right? Even if you don't know the whole song, you know how it sounds. You can hear it in your head right now, I know you can.

So I was taking a shower this morning and my brain combined the old joke about the quarter-sized bar of soap and hairs and that song.

(ADHD is sometimes a splendid thing, you will never convince me otherwise)

Okay, let's everybody sing....

Butthairs on the soap.
Butthairs on the soap.
You know that your old goat
Has rubbed it on his scrote
Butthairs on the soap.