Brazilians are being told to urinate in the shower once a day to save water. Their government claims that if every family member eliminates one flush a day, then thousands of gallons of water can be saved (over how long a period, I don’t know; I only half-listen to the radio when I’m driving because I need to concentrate on my texting).

Women are going to be the most alarmed by this suggestion for two reasons. One: women are usually the ones who clean the bathtubs; and Two: men already urinate in the shower.

What I want to know is: when are you supposed to use the bathtub as a toilet? Do you hold it in until you take a shower so that the already-running water will wash all traces away? Or, do you just use the tub anytime you feel the urge and wait until you, or an unsuspecting family member, turns on the water to bathe? Suppose you aren’t the type to check the floor of the tub when you step in and all of a sudden you slip on the urine and fall on your back? Now you’re lying in urine … with a broken spine. This is much worse than when men don’t put the seat down and you wind up sitting in the toilet instead of on it. I have a feeling that the people who came up with this idea were young men who don’t even realize that bathrooms need to be cleaned.

Is there anything worse than having to listen to someone describe his or her dream? Well, let’s see…

Last night I dreamed that my husband, Frank, was the head of WFAN-AM, a sports-talk radio station. The hosts at this station talk sports all the time … well, in between commercials, that is. Anyway, Frank allowed me to host a weekend show called, “Anything BUT Sports.” I must have been invisibly wired to the station, because I walked all over town with my microphone, and talked about whatever I felt like talking about. I also took callers. They always wanted to talk about sports, and I had to remind them that I would talk about “Anything BUT Sports.” I didn’t have any advertisers, so I had to talk for three hours straight. I started begging my board operator to play public service announcements, just so I’d have time to find a bathtub to urinate in. Pretty soon, the listeners and callers were fed up with me and my show’s format and they began spitting at me. Since I was walking the streets with a microphone and a sandwich board that said “Anything BUT Sports,” I was easy to spot. Every man in the tri-state area hated me and threatened to kill me, after he spit on me. I wonder what this means?