Day #15 AMWHP: “Porcelain Murder Chamber”

Apparently, I’ve developed a new hobby.

(See? If I can do it, so can you.)

As many of you know, “A millennial without her phone” all started when I accidentally threw my perfectly good iphone in the toilet right after I had used it.

The toilet, that is.

I went through the motions: gasping, denial, “oh shit” acceptance, frantically looking for a solution, rice… etc.

But alas, my dead and useless iphone would smell of urine forever.

So yeah, throwing my phone in the toilet is something I do well.

That’s only a one-time-thing though, right?


On Sunday, day #13, I drove to my hometown to see my mother.

I’d like to preface this story by saying, once again, that driving without Spotify is not cool.

I fought a deep and restless sleep the entire drive home but once I arrived, I immediately perked up as my mom is actually pretty rad.

I hadn’t been home for more than 10 minutes when I (apparently) felt it was time to solidify a habbit; a new hobby, if you will.

I threw my mom’s phone in the toilet.


“What, why?!” you’re thinking.

“Was it on purpose?!” you’re thinking.

“How does that even happen?!” you’re thinking.

Have you been listening? My mom is pretty rad.

So, no. I didn’t throw her phone in the toilet on purpose.

While in the bathroom, an unfortunate sweep of the wrist flung my mom’s phone off of it’s stark-white, safe, counter-top-home and into the porcelain murder chamber.

Call it what you want: a thrown, pottey, watercloset, lou, bano.

But from now on, in my mind, a toilet is a “porcelain murder chamber.”

Luckily, this time, no one had recently peed in the porcelain murder chamber.

I reacted as quickly as I could, reaching down into the murder chamber’s… well, chamber… and rescuing her phone from the cold, murky depths.

Then, I solidified my new hobby again.

The phone slipped.

And down, down, down it went; back into the unforgiving water of the porcelain murder chamber.

Keep in mind that my mom was standing next to me the entire time, witnessing the massacre of her life.

She’s next to me yelling, “Ellen! No! Grab it! Grab it! Good, God. Phew, give it to me. OH MY GOD NO! ELLEN GRAB IT!”

The screen flits black and white, static, and then goes dark.

My mom looks at me sideways.

At least I found something I’m good at.


(artwork by Tyler Fake)

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