You're in the middle of getting you bone on when you hear a what sounds like a wet snapping of bone, or someone throwing their keys at a plaster wall. You stop your thrusting and do a once around the room with a confused look on your face that say "HUH?"Your, erm, companion hook up of the evening's face turns red and gets to half laughing.
[This is the reason why I withdrew the term Companion. Yes, I am this much of a nerd]
If you don't get it and I know you in real life, we can no longer be friends
Hey, I'm not the only one who farts during or after sex. So Fuck your noise.
As I was pooping in the Gay/Lesbian/Bi-Sexual/Transgender support lounge the other day, I managed to set off the toilets when it caught a glimpse of my rectum, convincing me that the toilets in the GLBT support lounge are in fact fully homosexual. (Or straight and female with a thing for pegging) The toilets earlier were shown to only react to my waving wang, but have added my tender, succulent ass to the list.
BONUS CONTENT:
(Brought to you by today's Sponsor: Justifiable Homicide)
Working at that liquor store is slowly destroying my faith in humanity. Now, I'm no parent. I know I'm not anywhere near being ready emotionally, financially or maturity wise to be a parent.
[And when I am a parent, I will undoubtedly be a terrible, if not well-fed parent]
BONUS POINTS: Children are free labor once they're old enough to help lift the bodies
So maybe I have no place to judge, but I think that you might be a terrible parent...
-If you attempt to pay for a "haffa pint" with your WIC card. Last time I checked E&J is not part of a balanced breakfast
-If your morbidly obese child is limited to two bags of chips because he's "on a diet"
-If your twelve year old has more gang tattoos then felons that are twice his age
Now, I think it's probably fair to say that the above mention is indication that you're a terrible parent. And as a future horrible parent, I think my next judgement is definitely more than fair.
[No, I don't give a shit how much you cry, Delilah, you're stuck using that 12 gauge until you have the upper body strength and fine motor skills to hit something with a Kalashnikov]
But if you eat all your vegetables, I'll let you burn down the neighbor's garage with some thermite
Anyway back on topic: Sentient, latently homosexual toilets or heterosexual Toilets with an apparent pegging fetish.
-If you refuse to let your child have a 50 cent bag of peanuts because you "need the money to play another number" then you are without doubt or question, a horrible parent.
The joys of selling products that destroy lives. Oh well, someone's gonna do it, I might as well be the one collecting the pay check.
We now return you to your irregularly scheduled,
debaucherous asshat blogging away on the internet.
[Which is fine, so long as they don't take this documentary as an instruction manual]
I mean most toilets force us to touch their jiggly parts as is. Just think about that for a moment
On the notion of toilets, I've come to the conclusion that the biggest challenge for a male in the year 2012 is to figure out how to make a god damned toilet flush, especially the urinals. Some are motion activated, some work by string, some work by lever or knob. Some work by pushing a button, and some work by playing voyeur.
Now, like the normal, well adjusted human being I most clearly am, I'd almost immediately come to the conclusion that bars and restaurants are conspiring together to use different toilet flushing mechanisms to confuse drunk assholes like me. It's clearly the only logical solution.
Except, well, picture this:
Its 2012, your friend drags you along to some British farce on Japanese culture written in the old time days. So you're in some semi-stuffy old folk's theatre that's one step above community college theatre and one step down from total high class theatres simultaneously. There's the air of money and the air of poor college students intertwined, and everyone seems okay with it. Eventually all the water you drank catches up with you and you have to use the pisser. You enter the mens bathroom and find: Two urinals, one toilet, each with a different flushing mechanism. REALLY? C'mon guys, I can't figure this shit out half the time without taking five minutes, old people -- your theatre's staple patron, sure as hell can't do it any faster.
Can we just bring back the urinal penis flushers? Please?
Now, like the normal, well adjusted human being I most clearly am, I'd almost immediately come to the conclusion that bars and restaurants are conspiring together to use different toilet flushing mechanisms to confuse drunk assholes like me. It's clearly the only logical solution.
Except, well, picture this:
Its 2012, your friend drags you along to some British farce on Japanese culture written in the old time days. So you're in some semi-stuffy old folk's theatre that's one step above community college theatre and one step down from total high class theatres simultaneously. There's the air of money and the air of poor college students intertwined, and everyone seems okay with it. Eventually all the water you drank catches up with you and you have to use the pisser. You enter the mens bathroom and find: Two urinals, one toilet, each with a different flushing mechanism. REALLY? C'mon guys, I can't figure this shit out half the time without taking five minutes, old people -- your theatre's staple patron, sure as hell can't do it any faster.
Can we just bring back the urinal penis flushers? Please?
[If you don't see at least three penises in this picture, then you're doing it wrong]
And if you think further, you're giving them a hander. Every. Single. Time. Enjoy your strange half woody next time you flush
Oh shit, what is this? -- I don't even... I'm not very good with Blogs...
Well it isn't that bad I suppose. I mean hey, free hander! I guess it's about time they returned the favor after all
And that's the show stopper. Sentient toilets giving you a hander while you take a piss is a bit too much for even me to continue with. So, until next time... you know what, pray there isn't a next time. I mean seriously, sentient robot urinals? Yeah. Nope. Later.
