Its okay, I hate me too.
Its okay, I hate me too.
I need to build an archive of all of the crap (most of it) and all of the good stuff (like two things) that’ I’ve done over the years so I can have it all in one place to mostly laugh at and feel embarrassed by.
Gonna be gud.
“Let’s talk about Chex, baby.”
So I was in the bathroom at work and a man walked in with an urgency that, I assume we all can relate to. He rushed into the empty handicapped stall, although he was not hampered to my eyes. My eyes may have been deceived as for what happened next surely could be a burden for this individual.
I heard the rustling of a belt and the unzipping of the pants and, when I believe the rubber met the road, a huge sigh of relief. What followed was a slow buildup of noises. Let’s say a low-volume machine-gun, if you will. Or even better, a machine–gun that is far away, but is also on a truck and slowly coming towards you, getting louder.
The sound continued to ramp up. I was quite impressed with the duration of the affair. Had this man’s butt been an Olympic diver, he would have surely had enough air to go for gold.
As I washed my hands, I could not help but be distracted by this sound and also dumbfounded by how I was the only other person in this restroom experiencing this. Surely this magical experience was planted in the seeds of fate for this mutual experience between this stranger and I.
As I completed the process of washing and drying my hands, the restroom fell silent. I do admit to a bit of relief on my part, because any longer and this man surely would have needed emergency services. So I proceeded to the door and opened it to leave.
When the door was ajar, a woman in the hallway was walking by from my left to my right. What then exploded from behind me can only be described as elephant-like. The man had took this opportunity to reach into the depths of his rectum and produce the most bombastic and orchestral noise that has probably ever been produced by a human butt.
I locked eyes with this woman as she walked by, both of us not sure how to react to this sound. Like a staring contest between two owls, neither of us could break the gaze during this performance being produced in the bathroom behind me.
Finally, the symphony ended and the bathroom door closed. I walked away dumbfounded and sat down back at my desk which is where I am currently. Reliving this moment that happened a mere five minutes ago.
It was a surreal experience.
So there’s this anti-smoking ad that runs on TV that you may have seen.
I get the message they are trying to send. The big bad wolf smoked, now he can’t murder piggies. On the surface its fine, but digging deeper brings up tons of questions.
1.) No piggies in this ad smoke, therefore, anyone who doesn’t smoke is a piggie and vulnerable to horrific murder by the hands of Wolf. So if you are a non-smoker, you are a piggie.
2.) Wolf must have been smoking long enough for piggies to build a modern society. If Wolf is that old, his lungs probably wouldn’t be able to handle blowing down a modern-day piggie apartment complex to get to the tender piggie-meat inside.
3.) Wouldn’t Wolf smoking so he can’t murder piggies be a good thing? I mean, if Wolf is the only individual that commits murder, and the only way to stop him from murdering is to get him addicted to smoking, could that be considered a necessary evil?
4.) How come there is a straw house in the middle of the city? As advanced as the rest of piggie-society is, wouldn’t piggie-real estate have bought out or pushed the straw house owning piggie out at some point? All of his piggie neighbors are probably pissed that their piggie property value is going down because this little piggie refuses to join modern society.
5.) Why did Wolf have to blow the house down to get to the piggie? There were plenty of them in the streets. He could have also used the door.
6.) For some reason, my spellcheck is underlining piggie only sometimes in this post which means something, but I don’t care enough to find out.
The world is going insane.