breakfast

matters of number 2 and such

My big anxieties include going to the restroom #2 anywhere other than home and flying in airplanes.

Imagine my surprise when I had a 2 hour layover in Chicago and suddenly needed to evacuate certain regions of my body (chicken wings and beer the night before). So I said screw it and went into the men's room at O'Hare airport.

They had these things called like "techno-wizard ass covers" or something, seat covers that automatically advanced when you left the stall, leaving a new seat cover for the next client.

I had to go so bad I sat there in that 2 ft wide cell and went, of course the techno wizard started malfunctioning and started flushing the toilet and advancing the seat covers over and over and over and over and over so that they built up on my leg like a little plastic mountain.

All the while I am freaking out about taking my next flight, having to go poopy and having the toilet flush over and over with people in the next stalls probably going "wtf is that guy doing? probably terrorism or some shit, I better report him"

Well. Thanks for listening.

Here's an example of what was going on under my bottom the whole time I sat there:



And here's an example of the automatic seat cover in action:



You can imagine the two in constant motion with some anxiety level of 10.

Thanks again.

little negro boy

From "The Land of Nod" xmas catalogue comes this bit of prevalent ideology:

Item: Little Caribbean Drummer Boy

In the description it says: "I don't want to work, I want to bang on my calypso drum all day."

Jeez... some underpaid copywriter a bit bitter during the holiday season?