I Almost Pooped My Pants.

11 05 2012

Have you ever lived with someone else and shared a bathroom, then one day the other person is in the bathroom but you really really really have to go to the bathroom and for some reason they’re like taking an eternity (masturbating?) in there, so you hold it and hold it, but then your mind starts imagining all of the places in the house you could potentially go to the bathroom instead. Like in the kitchen sink. Or in a plastic bag. Or in an old salsa jar. But all of that imagining just disgusts you. So you hold it longer. Am I the only one who has done that? Who is actually doing it right now?

Trying to distract myself instead.

Wondering if any one driving by would see my squatting in the yard? Probably, we don’t have any trees. Or any bushes. Just some tall irises amongst the rocks. If I could go outside and transform myself into a dog then no one would notice. Except I’d be a dog without an owner and I’d probably get taken to the pound. Theoretically, if I could transform myself into a dog it would be better if I could just transform myself into someone who didn’t have to go to the bathroom. That would solve that problem.

I just watched this video as part of the distraction ploy.

I hear it all the time at work. What the hell is wrong with her? She dances like a drunk monkey that just did a speed ball and then stuck an anal plug up her butt. And a cut-off flannel? For a music video? About being someone’s lover? So weird.

Relief! Finally! Relief!

Okay. So now I can blog about something more important.

Ha!

Occasionally at work I am selected to be the one who cleans up our lot. This is probably the worst part of the job for me. The best part is that I get to be outside. The rest is me bending over and over with my ass crack falling out of my pants while I pick filthy cigarette butts out of the pebbles. And whatever else I find. Which leads me to the finger nail. That’s right, the other day I found a strippers used thumb nail on the ground. I am still completely disturbed by this. I don’t know why exactly it creeps me out so much. I think it’s because I can’t quite figure out a good enough story behind why I had to pick up someone’s broken nail off the ground. Like was she opening a can of pop in the parking lot, and oops! So, she just threw it on the ground? Was she giving some guy a bj and the guy got angry and started breaking her fingers one by one? Is she dead somewhere? Should I call CSI? I didn’t know what to do. So I just threw it in the trash bag with the cigs and the sad droopy condoms.

I’m waiting for the day when I find drugs. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the drugs, sell them, snort them, share them with friends. Throw them away you say? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll probably throw them away, you’re right, I’m not that cool. Plus, I don’t want to lose a finger nail and not remember where it fell off. . .because unlike this strippers by fingernails (and every other part of my body) are real.

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One response

14 05 2012
nickijay

this is funny! an old salsa jar…hilarious!

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