Today’s Post Brought to You by the Letters B and S

Someone stank up the bathroom before I got in here. And now someone’s waiting outside.

They’re gonna think it was me. But, I swear, my poo doesn’t smell like that. My poo smells like ice cream and flowers.


But, hey, at least they managed to poo INSIDE the toilet. Always a plus.

A tail is a tail, people, whether it’s a tail or not!

If you had a 9 inch tail, what’s to keep you from shitting on it?  No, really, how to you not poo on your own tail?  The pictures of people’s tails I’ve seen on Google don’t look like they have a lot of muscles in them and may not be movable.  So, seriously, how do you not poo on it?  And if you do, how can you be sure you get it all off without looking like the idiot in the stall chasing your tail?

Don’t get me wrong, I think people with tails are awesome and would rather have kids with someone who has a tail than not.  I don’t have a fetish, here, it just makes more sense to have a tail than to NOT have a tail.  What creatures don’t have tails?  How many out species don’t have tails as opposed to the species who do have tails?  I feel much less evolved looking at a human who has a tail and then looking at myself and seeing I don’t.  I DON’T HAVE A FETISH!  STOP JUDGING ME!

And don’t look at me like that, I don’t spend hours looking at my own ass in the mirror.  Often…

In other news, I get to go grocery shopping today.  Seeing as I go grocery shopping between 10 am and noon, I’m usually shopping with all the old people and stay at home moms.  I like shopping with mothers.  That way, when I hit on them, I know I’m hitting on a woman who puts out instead of some prude.

Also, no one pooped on the bathroom this week, nor did anyone set the bathroom on fire.  So, all in all, it was pretty uneventful.

Uriah and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

So I had this totally awesome post already in my head at work and then I totally forgot it.  So I’ll just give you random highlights from my day:

  • One of the guys I work with (an older married guy) told us the story of him and the one legged chick.  It started with, “She had two at the time”, in the middle there was a leg on the dashboard and one on the seat.  She kept hitting her head on the window when another employee came out and screamed, “OH MY G-D, MY EYES AND MY INNOCENCE”, and ended with, “It wasn’t too long after that she got into an accident and they had to cut her leg off to get her out of the car.”  He always tells the most heartwarming stories.
  • Someone wiped their butt with the same piece of toilet paper several times and then threw it on the floor behind the toilet and I refused to pick it up because I’m afraid I’ll get Hepatitis A a slacker.
  • After not sleeping for more than an hour here and an hour there for several days I became deliriously belligerent at work and called everyone out on their shit.  No one liked it.
  • A customer, who we suspect spends all his time drunk, but since he’s always like that we can’t prove it, took a piss in my parking lot that was so powerful It (yes, I did it that way on purpose, thus was the power of The Piss) pressure washed that part of the parking lot.
  • Some 22 yo guy got a blow job from a high school freshman cheerleader that we politely ruined by having one of our best regulars who parked next to them stare into the window and tell them to get lost.  This was all under the extremely bright mercury lights at the extremely busy pumps.
  • I learned that I’m not fucked up enough to get paid time off despite hallucinating, sobbing on my way to work, screaming in terror at my alarm clock going off, and having an anxiety attack since, mmm, Saturday.

Thus was my wonderful day.  Oh, and the fucktard that won’t read my blog my friend that I was supposed to hang out with tomorrow since I don’t have to be up early on Thursday morning made me hang out with him and his girlfriend his roommate until 2am when I have to be up at 5am.  Not that I’ll sleep, but I’ve got shit to do, people.

How was your day?


Week Ending 01/06/2010

So my boss came back from his vacation last week which was completely and utterly welcome as we all were ready to kill eachother and our assistant manager really totally missed him. So on the first day I saw him I told him that if he wasn’t married and my boss I would totally have kissed him but since he was my boss it would probably get me fired and since he was married it would go against my morals and that I know I’m hot but he needs to stop looking at me like that.  He just looked at me funny and said he missed me to, which was completely cool, but I don’t know why he looked at me funny, unless he was trying to hide the hurt he was feeling that I wouldn’t kiss him, which I totally can’t blame him for because I am a really awesome kisser.

So, anyway, I hadn’t even been there for five minutes yet when some guy who was so hungry he couldn’t even stop eating his sandwich to go to the bathroom came up to my boss and whispered something to him in spanish and my boss freaked out and ran to the bathroom.  I thought maybe it was just some really nasty joke until he told me to put an out of order sign on the bathroom.  Turns out some guy totally exploded all over the only stall in the men’s restroom.  Seriously, there was poo from chest high all the way to covering the entire toilet and floor.  It was horrible and there is absolutely no ventilation in the restroom, which makes absolutely no sense since the men’s restrooms in convenience stores, no matter how many times we clean them, have got to be one of the most stinkiest places on the bathroom with the sole exception of that one guy.  You know the guy.  Yeah, him.

So that was two hours of my time well spent bonding with my boss in the men’s restroom, which is really awkward since I shouldn’t be bonding with my boss in the restroom since he’s married.  I promised myself I’d only do that with single guys.  Ah, well.  I guess it doesn’t count as anything since we were both fully clothed and I ended up covered in someone elses poo and I am NOT in any way shape or form into skat at all so please don’t send me pictures of poo.  Pictures of Pooh are okay, but Tigger is way better.

Then, on Saturday night, some guy totally decided it would be okay to try and threaten me because he was driving without a license.  I know, right?  I mean, it’s not like I pulled him over or anything since I’m just the lowest level manager my company has and not a police officer by any means (although I was a Security Guard at one point in time, but that didn’t last long…apparantly they don’t like it so much when you get yourself locked inside the building you’re guarding for two and a half hours) so there was absolutely no reason to call me names and scream and threaten me.  So, anyway, the conversation went kind of like this:

Me: Dude, really, you don’t need to threaten me.  You just need to have your ID so I can sell you beer.

Idiot who wants a ticket: Fuck you mother fucker.

Me: No, sir, I don’t fuck mothers, I prefer fathers, so you should really call me a father fucker.

I.W.W.A.T.: Faggot!

Me: Yes, I am, why, are you interested?

I.W.W.A.T.: Fuck you!

Me: Okay…well, if you really want to proposition me, you totally can, but I still have another 6 hours to work-

I.W.W.A.T.: I’m sick of you, mother fucker!

Me: Okay, so, I’m just gonna call the police since you’re being abusive now and I refuse to be in an abusive relationship.

So then I pick up the phone and he’s all, “Oh, yeah, call the police, see what happens” and I’m all, “Oh, I will, because they have all those bright shiny flashyflashy lights on their cars and that’s kind or hard to not see” and then I call the police but I guess they were just really busy because the phone wouldn’t ring so I had a pretend conversation with the pretend dispatch lady at the pretend police department on the real phone in front of the real guy who wanted to slit my throat for not selling him beer.

I mean, really, if you want it that bad, why not just steal it?  Wouldn’t that make more sense instead of getting arrested for assault?  I can’t do anything and I’m too fat to run after you (okay, I’m not too fat to run, but I just tell myself that so I don’t have to exert any more energy than I need to).

And then some really nice lady came in and offered me a totally awesome job for this totally awesome pay that I can’t turn down so maybe I won’t have to deal with that guy anymore.

Oh, and then some stupid rich kid stole a 3 Muskateers and I told him I hoped he had a great night and that he choked to death on it.

That’s me, Mr. Customer-Service-in-Action!