Sunday, August 21, 2011

And Then I Threw Up

Okay, I have to get this out of the way before I can move on to the hilariously violent rage that I keep bottled inside of me at all times.


You guys are the most amazing fucking people I have ever had to pleasure of communicating with. Seriously. Never forget it and if anyone tells you that you aren’t, I’ll come bite their ankles off… right after I stab them in the face with a pen. It’s more fun when they run first. All of the comments have done what months of therapy and bottling could not. I feel … light… again. I feel free. I feel pretty and witty and fun. And there the moment goes.


A Brief Lesson on Grammar and Common Fucking Courtesy. Asshole.



“I stay down in Pageland.”


“Yeah, that’s where we stay.”


“Where do you stay?”


Completely ignoring the fact that ‘stay’ means that you, well, fucking STAY somewhere, as in, you don’t ever fucking leave it or it’s only for short periods of time, I’m going to point out how stupid you sound.


You stay in a mother fucking hotel.


You stay THE NIGHT at someone’s house.

You stay at the bar until it closes.

You don’t fucking stay at your place of residence. You Goddamned live there.

I stay in a state of constant rage. That’s where I stay.


No, you can not axe me. It would probably hurt and I’m going to be pretty angry about it. You can axe me a question only if I can rotary tool you the answer. This conversation is going to take awhile. I don’t care who you are, what you do, your level of success or education, or about any or all of your accomplishments in life. If you ask if you can axe me a question, I’m going to lose respect for you.


How in the Goddamn fuck do you shit on a wall?

Seriously.


Someone came out of the WOMEN’S bathroom at work today and told me that someone needed to have their ass beat. She then proceeded to tell me that someone had taken their own shit and smeared it all over the stall.


I’m assuming it was their own shit because while it’s difficult to wrap my mind around why anyone would smear their own shit on the walls of a public restroom stall, I can’t even begin to imagine why you would use someone else’s.


I had to go in the back and tell someone about it. This lead to a ten minute discussion on how it was carried out.

Did they wear gloves?


Did they at least pick it up with toilet paper?


Why would you touch shit?


Did they scoop it out of the bowl or did they just shit right into their hand?

Was it some kind of fecal Tourette’s? Like they just had a tic where they flung their poo like a monkey?


I had been cleaning the absorption pads on our printers, so my hands were covered in ink and I needed to wash them. I go into the bathroom and sick curiosity gets the better of me. Slowly I creep towards the stalls, checking them one by one, and then the smell hits me. The smell of rancid shit makes me gag like a cheap whore, y’all.


I get to the stall in question and poke my head around the corner. This is where I see the most God awful thing I have ever seen in my life and this includes going to change my nephew’s diaper and screaming, in a public restroom, “It’s in your hair! How the fuck does it get in your HAIR? OH MY GOD IT’S IN YOUR SHOES TOO!”


There is no shit smeared on the walls as I was told.


I swear to God someone snuck an elephant into the bathroom when I wasn’t looking because it is just not possible for a human to do that. There is not enough pressure in the bowels and there is not enough shit in the body to accomplish that kind of coverage.

This is the only explanation that I have for this:



Holy Christ balls on Jesus toast.


It was all over the back of the toilet seat. You know what? I’ve seen it happen before… but not like this. It was ALL over the back of it. It covered the rest of the porcelain and the thing sticking up in the back for automatic flushing. It was on the floor.


It was four feet up on the side and back walls of the stall and it went all the way down.

There was none in the bowl. None at all.


How in the holy fuck does this even happen?


No one could survive it.



No one.



They had to have died shortly after. I’m watching the news now to see if anyone’s found a shitless body in the woods.


Side note:  My dad actually has Tourette's, so it'd be cool if we kept the jokes to a minimum.  Or I'll stab you.  In my mind.  Because I have no idea where you people live.

1 comment:

Md wahab Miah said...
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