Poopy Camera

First an altercation with a door knob, and now a poopy camera.

Back story: My good friend, Meredith White, is a princess in the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, DC.  She needed an escort to the ball.  Insert gay best friend (me).  

WELL, this morning she was in the Cherry Blossom Parade.  Great, fine, dandy!  DC winds were extra high.  I left the crowd to go to the bathroom.  Port-a-Poty found, I was thrilled.  In there, I set my bag on the shelf atop the toilet, did my business, and prepared to rise.  Then a gust of wind came.  

Now, I lost a lot of weight, but I am not a feather.  That Port-a-Poty moved at least a foot.  My camera, in that dramatic moment, fell from the shelf atop the toilet and into the blue poopy water.

Like an idiot, I fished it out.  After thinking I could salvage the poopy camera (and posting it as my Facebook status), my ickiness got the better of me when I realized I would think of poop with every picture hence forth.  Poopy camera trashed.

I cannot win!