Tickets and Footsteps

Ran a stop sign on my way home from work. Kind of pissed myself off. When I got home I found out that my son took his first steps today. I fucking missed it. Damn it. I never should have gone to work today. Would have seen my baby walk for the first time and I would have avoided a ticket.

I Have Achieved Lift Off

As the shift came to a close at work and people began to leave, I realised that it would be a matter of time before I could let out the gigantic fart that had been building up inside of me for the last several hours. When the last person walked out the door, I let it go.

It moved me forward like an inch on the chair.

This has never happened to me before. I've dropped some serious bombs, but nothing has ever literally moved me.

I'm hoping to find a way to turn this into an alternate fuel source.

I thought it was only going to be a fart

My butt had a message for me. It said, "I'm going to fart." So I leaned to the side and let one rip. What my butt didn't tell me was that the fart was loaded.

I was in a small office at work, thankfully one without witnesses, so I made my way down the long hall way to the back restroom that no one used and let the rest of it out.

But there was no toilet paper.

You would think paper towels would be more efficient at removing poop due to their texture, but they're not.

Plime

Tonight plime was down. Which meant I didn't have much in the form of entertainment while at work.

So I figured I would search the internet for interesting sites to post on plime.

But the only one I could think of was plime.com

And it's not worth posting if it's not working.

Today was kind of random

Today was an interesting day.

I slept in a little; which was good because I felt a little better rested but was also bad because I was a few minutes late for work. I pulled into the work parking lot and my jacket sleeve got caught on my pants button and ripped the button off (that's what happened, by the way; my belly didn't cause it to burst or anything i swear). I put the button in my back pocket and tightened my belt a bit hoping that it would compensate for and cover up my missing button.

Then I went to work, up the elevator and in the doors; to my desk undetected by the boss. Certainly that was lucky. What was even more fortunate was what I noticed in the restroom mirror, the absense of my top button was thankfully unnoticable due to my enormous gut hanging over the belt line just enough to cover the button area.

Turns out a client was visiting today, so my massive girth really is fortunate with the whole button thing. I got to go to olive garden with them on company expense, and that was awesome.

I got 'stuffed chicken somthing'. There were two 'stuffed chicken somethings' on the menu, but I got the one I could pronounce. I figured I would be able to remember it since I could pronounce it, but as I told my wife what it was I realised that I had forgotten. As fate would have it, she knew the meal I was speaking of and named it right off; having seen it advertised on the television.

That's when I explained to her what I have already explained to her; that I had chosen one I could pronounce in the hopes of remembering the name it but having forgotten just that, and about how coincidental it was that she should know the name of it.

After that I came over here to post it on my blog, only to realize that I have again forgotten the name of it. I am certain that it is "stuffed chicken something", but as I have mentioned; there are two 'stuffed chicken somethings' on the list and I don't remember either of them.

If you go to Olive Garden, have the 'stuffed chicken something' that is easy to pronounce.

So I go to the fridge only to discover that my wife bought some St. Pauli Girl and stocked the fridge with them so that they were nice and cold for me when I got home.

Except that the beer in the refridgerator thing didn't actually happen. I made that part up to mask the pain that I feel because this has never happened to me. The conclusion of the day utterly destroyed what had been an otherwise wonderful adventure.

Honey, if you read this... Please buy me some beer and stock the fridge with it. If you won't give me head, at least give me beer.

*sigh*

Crossing the Street

I take my time crossing the street, and rarely bother waiting for traffic (unless it's super heavy). I figure the drivers will stop, and they don't want their insurance to go up. Plus, I'm certain that I would do some serious damage to their vehicle.

Sometimes they honk the horn at me. That's when I bend down and pretend to tie my shoe.

About Elevators

I work in an old building. We have three elevators that are far from trust-worthy. Many people have been stuck in them for extended amounts of time, but so far I have been immune.

I'm the last one to leave the office (hell, the whole building), so if the elevator gets stuck I'm pretty much in there all night.

Which brings me to the realization of a new fear.

When the doors to the elevators slide shut, I sometimes realize that I should have peed before leaving the office. I mean, if I do get stuck, I'm gonna have to just go at some point. And then I'll be stuck in an elevator trying to avoid a puddle of my own urine.

It keeps me awake at night sometimes.

Shit Whistlers

Whistling is an entertaining way to pass the time. Some people whistle as they drive, or walk, and many whistle while they work. I whistle to songs sometimes if I don't know the words. Whistling is a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time.

Well, most of the time anyway.

I was deeply disturbed by something yesterday. What was it that disturbed me, you may be asking? It was none other than our beloved and seemingly enjoyable was to pass the time; whistling.

As I walked into the MENS ROOM at work (cause that's where I pee) I was confronted first by the sound of whistling and second by the stench of the work this man was whistling along to. I peed quickly, shook three times, washed my hands, used the paper towel to open the door (because I have phobias) and exited the bathroom gagging and embracing myself in a hug that dropped me to the floor in the fetal postion.

Let me make one thing perfectly clear: It is not acceptable to whistle while you shit. Just as it is unacceptable to eat while you drop your load. Shit whistlers are among the most disgusting people out there and show a blatant disregard for the peace of mind of other individuals.

Before you start, it's not right to whistle while you piss either.

In fact, the only bathroom activity in which it is okay to whistle is washing your hands. Unless your at home, what you do in the privacy of your own home is your business, whistle to your anis' content at home. But not in a public restroom.