Shrieks are Louder than Words

They make it work somehow.

They speak their own language.

Or in this case, they "shriek" it.

And it doesn't matter whether or not anyone else "gets" it.

It just matters that they do.

To say that I love these two more than any human should be capable of loving someone else is the greatest understatement in the known universe..


Shrieks are Louder than Words from Jo Ashline on Vimeo.



Oh.  and if you're wondering why they're just standing there, buck naked, freezing their keisters off, it's because we were waiting for the tub to drain. 

So that I could clean out the poop. 

Naturally.

My Best Friend's Bathtub is Dirtier than I Thought.

You can learn a lot about people by visiting them in their homes.   Color schemes, knick knacks, window treatments, florals vs. solids; these important details can often provide a tiny glimpse into the hearts and minds of the residents, illustrating their passions, hobbies, and personal habits.

A spotless kitchen, for instance, with nary a gadget in sight and a fridge covered in take out menus, may be indicative of a homeowner who prefers delivery to dishes.

A worn lazy-boy located front and center in a living room which boasts a television set larger than the square footage of most three car garages could be a sign that someone spends their days (and nights) glued to quality programming such as ESPN, ESPN 2, ESPN IX and ESPN For the Divorced Dumbass Who Chose ESPN over His Wife.

And some of the most intimate details of a person's life, of course, can often be found in their bathroom.  Electric toothbrushes, air fresheners, anti-wrinkle cream, one-ply toilet paper; the bathroom is a breeding ground for personal information (raise your hand if you're a liar and have never opened someone else's medicine cabinet) and can offer true insider information on the people in your life.

So imagine my horror when I went to use the bathroom at my best friend's house, someone I thought I knew well, and my sense of sight was assaulted by um, this in her bathtub:

Now, I don't know what's worse:  thinking that her five year old daughter had something to do with this (in which case, may I suggest a medically induced coma until she's 21), or that my best friend's soriority days at a prestigous university were back to rear their ugly head (in which case, may I suggest less wine with breakfast).

The truth folks, is that there are no winners here.

Except of course, Ken.