Poop Picture

So, I'm out with Heather and entertaining her with stories about my dating life. It sucks, but she laughs so there's that.

I'm explaining how it's really different this time around with technology. Last time I was in the dating world the most high tech form of communication I had was my pager. Now there's texting and email attached to your hip, if you like. I tell her how I sent pictures of myself sunbathing to a guy I'm seeing through my phone and she laughs. I show her the photos, "nice Lisa, not sleezy at all."
"No? Really? Because, you know, as an artist I'm seriously concerned about how artsy they are also."
"Not concerned about how good your breasts look?"
"Well, sure, there's that too."
She's laughing and scrolling through her photos. "Ok, here it is," she says when she locates what she's been looking for. "You've got your bikini shots, here's what I send to J.P. (who is out of town for several weeks)" She holds up the phone to show me a shot of little turds at the base of, not inside, the toilet. I'm LMAO.
"What is THAT?"
"It was a big day. Jackson pooped at the toilet, he didn't quite make it but at least he got the idea." I am trying really hard now to gain control again. "Please Lisa, send J.P. the photo of you in your bikini."
"NO! I'm not sending him a picture of my cleavage!"
"I just want him to see what other girls are sending their boyfriends."
So, I send him the photo with the message, "these are the sorta images I send my boyfreind." Then Heather re-sends the poop picture with the caption, "and this is the sorta picture I send my boyfriend."
Thanks to the snail speed of Sprint, or my Razor phone, or the combination of both, J.P. receives the poop picture first.
He calls Heather immediately. "J.P wants to know why he's getting the poop picture again," Heather tells me.
"Awww, damn! He got them out of order! Now it's not nearly as funny."
She's listening to him and then says, "J.P. doesn't have unlimited picture mail Lisa, he says everytime I send him the poop picture it costs him twenty five cents."
Really, was it the wine or is this not some funny shit?
"Oh, ok...he's getting your picture now. Yea? I know. Ok, now he gets it. He says nice photo Lisa."
"Tell him to send it to Cody." I tell her, Cody is twenty seven.