Day 141: Bathroom Issues

[darmstadt]

The ones in my office have an automatic light on a timer. If, of a winter evening, you forget to press the light switch as you go in, you can be left standing in the dark hoping your aim is still good.

Pretty impressive, you have a toilet cubicle in your office :-)

[BillHicksRIP]

It's started freaking me out in the last 12 months or so, so possibly an age thing. The toilets in this place are crap (ha!) so on the odd chance they're actually working, and you're lucky enough to find one without a snapped seat, there's always some scumbag who comes along to dump for England in the next trap as soon as your arse hits plastic. And there's 3 urinals in a row, no divider in between, and a bit too close together. Occassionally, you see some monster using the middle one! Who does that?

[zoco]

I don't like this either. I've only worked in a couple of places with cubicles like that and it put me off of using them. I'm a fairly private person so don't like the idea of people being able to listen in, and it's just disgusting when some lard-arse gets in the next cubicle and starts loudly dumping/farting without a care in the world. Not only do you get to hear what they're doing, you have to smell it too. The last place I was at had 'cubicles' separated by brick walls - that's the way it should be!

It's started freaking me out in the last 12 months or so, so possibly an age thing. The toilets in this place are crap (ha!) so on the odd chance they're actually working, and you're lucky enough to find one without a snapped seat, there's always some scumbag who comes along to dump for England in the next trap as soon as your arse hits plastic. And there's 3 urinals in a row, no divider in between, and a bit too close together. Occassionally, you see some monster using the middle one! Who does that?

Glad it's not just me then

[Old Greg]

There's a lot of money to be made here for an enterprising psychotherapist with a strong stomach.

[zoco]

There's a lot of money to be made here for an enterprising psychotherapist with a strong stomach.

Well, a strong stomach would be needed for exposure therapy

[darmstadt]

The Work Bog

Bored at work so rewrote this which happened to be in my files...

Contractors ******* love taking dumps. Whether it’s the*sloppy hangover*tulip, your average morning growler or just a good old fashioned*double decker dump, it doesn’t make a difference. It’s a ******* enjoyable experience that contractors will not only willingly*describe (size, length, color, texture, smell, etc.), but in certain special circumstances, we’ll even take pictures of that tulip to send to all our mates to prove just how ******* big it was. While men always enjoy the luxury of their*own*home turf, sometimes we just don’t have that luxury. You see, after higher education/dole/travelling/permie hell*is over, contractors move on to the real world where we’re forced to sit at a desk for 8 hours a day, doing nothing but drink coffee, surf the internet and work out their invoice. Obviously that Mother Nature will hit you up at some point, but there’s no reason to screen that call. Contractors ******* answer that tulip because we love taking dumps at work.

One of the many great things about being a guy and not a girl is the pride we get to take in our tulips. As shocking as it might seem, even hot girls poop, which is ******* disgusting. Girls are always so embarrassed and self-conscience about the smell of their dumps, which is a good thing because they ******* should be. Guys, on the other hand, love everything about their tulip, from the buildup where they talk about how they’re “about to give birth to a ******* 15 pound child,” to the aftermath where they brag about how they “BLEW THAT tulip UP, SON.” So why should this be any different at work? Well first of all, thanks to ****ing*feminists, guys aren’t allowed to talk about the damage they’re about to inflict on the toilet and they’re DEFINITELY not allowed to send people pictures of their tulip. But somehow in this ******* PCist World of censorship known as “the workplace” contractors still manage to find a way to make their tulipting experience an enjoyable one.

No matter how ******* loaded a contractors family is, every time he gets that first contract he’s gonna break down how much he’s making per hour. There’s no better time where this information comes in handy than when he’s taking a dump. Basically the longer he sits on that toilet reading CUK articles on his smart phone, the more money he gets paid. Making cash to take a dump is about as contractor cool as it ******* gets.

But where are you gonna do it? Every contractor's got his home away from home at work. It pretty much all depends on “what are the chances there will be some ******* guy next to me.” Sometimes I’ll hit up 5 bathrooms to find an empty row of stalls if there’s a ******* tulipting convention in the first 4 and no matter what, I ALWAYS use the handicapped stall. “BUT, WHAT IF A DISABLED PERSON NEEDS TO USE THE BATHROOM?”*OH,*YEAH RIGHT*– umm, pardon me, but the last time I checked I work at an actual company, not the ******* Special Olympics. And besides, when has anyone ever seen an actual handicapped person use the big stall anyways? Try ******* never. I’m pretty sure they only invented the handicapped stall to make it easier for people to hold their balance when they’re*boffing or being sick.

Unfortunately, sometimes even your ******* deserted island of a bathroom will get invaded by Others. This is the ******* worst. You know, you’re just sitting there going through old text messages and tulip, having a great time, when some huge ass old dude sits down and immediately starts panting and grunting like he’s having a ******* heart attack. When this happens, half of me wants to the ask if he’s OK, while the other half of me is so terrified I want to ******* waddle-run out of the stall with my pants around my ankles. If I’m forced to ******* stay and listen the only noises worse than hearing my parents have sex, then you better believe I’m gonna time my exit so I don’t have to make eye contact with this ******* beast. I mean, imagine finding out it was your boss or some tulip. How could you come to work everyday after you’re pretty sure you witnessed his miscarriage?*

Nobody loves dumping in public, but when you’re at the office, you gotta face that music. While loser permies might get out the disinfectant and paper seat shields or even do “the hover,” contractors don’t give a ****. We’re ******* Honey Badgers. We plop down, break out our smart phones, start counting our growing paper stack, and enjoy the tulip out of our ******* tulip.