Month: February 2003

  • Potty Talk


    Inspired by Tej and OpheliaBedilia


     


    Deconstructing the Myth: Contrary to what you’ve seen on Ally McBeal, most law firms do not have unisex bathrooms. 


     


    I wonder what would happen if I decorated one of the stalls in the ladies’ bathroom at work? Or, even better, one of the stalls in the men’s bathroom? You know . . . put a fuzzy toilet seat cover on the lid, toss a matching rug on the floor, and replace the hard toilet seat with the soft, mushy kind that makes a farting noise as it conforms to the shape of your buttocks?


     


    Hmm.  File that one away for April 1st.


     


    I have some serious bathroom quirks. Strange, considering I find THIS absolutely hysterical.  Some men joke about how women go to the bathroom in groups. Not me! I hate having to use public restrooms because of the lack of privacy. Would you ever stand next to someone you barely know as they use the restroom? No? Then why is it when we erect an inch-thick barrier between toilets, we think this behavior is acceptable? It isn’t.


     


    I am not alone in feeling this way.  A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless *cough*ManfredKuntz*cough* goes out of his way to use a relatively secret private bathroom on a different floor at his office (guess it is not a secret anymore – oops!).  In most workplaces, however, employees are not afforded the luxury of privacy.  This brings me to the very important One-Stall Buffer Zone Rule: when you go to the bathroom and discover – to your horror – that someone is already in there, make the best out of a bad situation and always choose the stall that is the farthest away from your bathroom mate.  Men, with their urinal experience, are well-trained in this area.  The same rules should apply to women. For hours of family fun while learning more about advanced bathroom etiquette, play:


     


    The Urinal Game


     


    The funniest thing about that game is how some of the characters aren’t using their hands.


     


    But I digress.



    In most women’s bathrooms, the walls between the stalls don’t even go down to the floor. I’m not sure why that is, other than to pass toilet paper to your bathroom-buddy if they should discover (mid-pee) that they are without. I hate that gap because everyone can see your shoes. Maybe I’m weird (this has been hypothesized many times over), but I can always tell who is sitting in the stall next to me just by looking down at their shoes. If people are forced to take care of the dirty business in close proximity, they should at least get SOME feeling of anonymity. 


     


    My proposed solution: stock up each stall with a year’s supply of Charmin and between the stalls erect a two-foot thick, floor-to-ceiling wall of concrete and steel covered in sound-proofing materal.

    Oddly, there are some women that don’t seem to mind the lack of privacy. In fact, they see bathroom time as a “bonding experience.” Maybe THIS is the reason why I don’t have many close female friends!!  I simply cannot carry on a conversation with my bathroom stall neighbor as if we were merely waiting in line at the grocery store.

    Even worse, I have a shy bladder so I sometimes have problems “starting the deal” when I suspect there is anyone within earshot of the bathroom. I have to wait until they leave before I can begin.  The women I find most annoying are those who finish their bathroom business, but spend ages primping in front of the mirror.  Wash your hands, check your nose for HB’s (you can figure out what that means), and get out of there!



    Every now and then, there will be a woman in the other stall with the same bathroom quirks as mine. The two of us will sit there silently, as if we are playing the “who will blink first” game, just waiting for the other to leave. I usually am the winner of such standoffs, but if my opponent is stubborn and I really need to go, I’ll just flush (purely for show), wash my hands, and go to an empty (hopefully) bathroom on a different floor.

    This quirk of mine extends beyond public bathrooms as well. I absolutely, positively, without question, under no condition, CANNOT do the dirty business in someone else’s home, or when someone is in my home. Fortunately, I can go for days without doing Le Nombre Deux (sounds fancy in French, n’est pas?). 


     



     



     


    Xanga Notable Quotables


     


    “I discovered that if you are buying a Valentines Day gift on the clearance rack its best to go out of town. Because when hubby walks in with the EXACT same gift for you, you will both be ticked off. I at least had the courtesy to remove the price tag.”LonaMay


     


    “Today is Valentine’s Day. I told my wife that we should go out and get each other’s names tattooed on some intimate parts of our bodies. She disagreed. I guess romance really is dead, oh well.”  - otherbrotherdarrell 


     


    “I don’t want something that touches his junk touching my junk.” – Duckyguy


     


    “Whores attacked my bus stop last night! What’s my proof? An empty dime bag and a bunch of broken press-on nails strewn throughout the bus shelter. Who needs more proof than that??” – goMetric


     


    “Think back to the last time you copulated…..think of a good OH MY GOD I’M GONNA CUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!! It just works, kinda like peanut butter and bananas. So here’s what I need to know: What in the fuck do Atheists say when they’re getting their fuck on?” – SuperGlueLogic 


     

  •  Monday Commute Blog: 


    10 Rules for Riding the D.C. Metro


     


    1.  Riding the Metro escalator is like driving: the left side is the passing lane.  If you are too lazy to walk up (and in some cases, walk down) the escalator, please stand to the right.  If you block the left lane and someone (like ME) trying to pass you says, “Excuse me,” please don’t pretend like you’ve suddenly gone deaf.  You know you heard me.


     


    2.  The purpose of the poles in the aisles of the trains is to allow many standing Metro riders to hold on for balance. They are not stripper poles.  Therefore, please refrain from leaning your entire body (especially your ass) against them.  That would be my hand your mushy left buttock is crushing, thanks.


     


    3.  Don’t sneeze into your hand and then place your hand back on the pole.  If you don’t have a tissue, pretend to search for something in your pocket and discreetly wipe the mucus from your palm into the inner lining.  Keep it there.


     


    4.  Bathe. More specifically, bathe using soap and water, not cologne.


     


    5.  There are two types of Metro cards: paper and plastic.  All the cool kids use the plastic cards. Oddly, of the three machines that allow you to purchase a paper Metro card, only one of those machines allows you to add money to a plastic Metro card.  If you insist on purchasing the annoying paper cards and all three machines are open, please do not use the only machine that allows you to add money to a plastic card.  If you do, have the decency to apologize to the five plastic card holders now glaring at the back of your head as they are forced to wait in line behind you.


     


    6.  Don’t look over my shoulder to see what I’m reading.  Bring your own damn book.


     


    7.  On occasion, people must pack themselves into the trains like sardines.  However, don’t take advantage of this opportunity to “accidentally” cop a feel.  If you do, I might “accidentally” kick you in the nuts.


     


    8.  When the train is crowded, don’t say, “Wow, the train sure is crowded!”


     


    9.  The GREEN arrow sign means that exit is available.  A RED line sign means that exit is NOT available.  If you memorize these two facts, you won’t find yourself staring dumbly at an unavailable exit, announcing (to no one in particular), “But it won’t take my card!”


     


    10.  Please be fully clothed when riding the Metro.  I never thought I’d have to say that, but that was before one winter when I encountered a crazy woman on the Metro who was naked from the waist down. Ew. 


     



     


     


    Funny Stuff I’ve Read On Xanga:


     


    “So I’m walking to the bus stop and see a pink square wrapped in plastic, lightly dusted with snow on ground just ahead of me. Thinking that it was a feminine product of some sort, I got excited and jumped straight at it.  I mean, c’mon, free feminine product!” - ALLLGooD


     


    What exactly does an orgasm feel like and how do i know i’ve had one? well, you are in xanga right? imagine posting just one sentence and then the next day you get 1000 eprops. THAT is what an orgasm feels like, only receiving the eprops feels better.”virgilmvx


     


    “I ran track for 3 years.  I use the term “ran” loosely.  I won a plaque for ‘Most Inspirational’ for the long jump and triple jump squad.  To win the ‘Most Inspirational’ award is comparable to having a movie made of your life, and calling it ‘Mask’. Except I would have Pat Morita playing my mom instead of Cher.” – cerveza


     


    “ive never been with a woman, pulled down her panties… and found her wearing an anal bauble. are there really hordes of people out there sporting butt bling?” – deadstar


     


    “The subtext is becoming text. When things are rapidly degenerating from allusions into outright topics of conversation. Such as: “I just love that skirt. Is it Prada?” “No, it’s actually just a knock off.” “Oh, the horror. I wouldn’t be letting it touch my skin.” “Maybe I should just take it off, then.” “Maybe, indeed.” “So let’s just fuck then?” “Yes, lets. I’ve got the handcuffs and the anal beads.”" – the8rgrl


     





     


    Reason #238 Why You Must Be Careful


    What You Say Around Kids


     


    “Mommy, what’s camel toe?” – Jordan, my seven-year-old niece


     





     


    P.S.  In case you missed my last blog, you can find parts of it HERE and HERE. *smirk*