9-14-05

You can chalk this up to determination. Earlier today, I wrote the most poignant blog of all time. Really, it was that good. But as I edited the masterpiece, our electricity went out.

Thus, I lost my blog. Yes, a blog is a terrible thing to lose. Now you're stuck with this.

Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting at the desk in my office. We had a customer, some old man who I don't know, standing at the teller line. Since it is lunch hour, we have a split crew. Only one teller was on the teller line and she was back looking something up.

I heard a distinctive noise and looked up, shocked and appalled to see the man had one leg raised and was cutting some serious cheese. It sounded like a machine gun going off.

He cut it short just before the teller returned. I could not tell if there was any lingering smell so maybe the stench was light. Most women can smell one anytime a guy has pooted in the last month, you know.

Speaking of gas and their offshoots, my little nephew was spending some time with us the other day. My wife gave him a bath in our whirlpool tub. She left him alone for a few minutes then came back and I heard "James!"

After figuring out there really wasn't anything seriously wrong, I tuned out the rest of the conversation, as the supreme court has ruled is allowed by all men. Turns out the water currents must have done something to his little tummy and he made a deposit in the bath water.

Yep, we had a floater. I have no idea how the waste material was handled. I kept expecting somebody in a chemical suit to show up. Usually, I am the recipient of all activity of this order, but somebody else must have stepped up to the plate.

I decided the water must have some kind of laxative quality, or something like that. Must be like Books-A-Million does to me.

I can't hardly step in the place without it hitting me. I'll be glancing at a book or flipping through a magazine when the tummy stirrings hit. I'll do the duck waddle walk back to the bathroom, barely arriving before high tide hits.

Now, it's always good to get rid of the toxics in a body, I just don't understand what makes this happen. Plus, it's bad to go there because they won't allow reading material in the public facilities and there is seldom any literature written on the walls of the stall. That's just not right. A man has to have reading material while transacting that kind of business.

Luckily, I'm fairly regular in that area. Yes, I know you're relived to hear that. I do know people who have problems in that area. Especially people who aren't able to relieve themselves when they're away from home.

They have to go several days without any transactions! My gosh, that must hurt their tummies. I guess they can't handle playing on the road, much like many athletic teams.

I'm just glad I'm not a female. I'd hate to have to take a seat every time I need to go. There are some nasty joints out there. I'm pretty liberal in my use of bathrooms. But I do draw the line on any restroom that offers prophylactics for purchase in the bathroom. I could be wrong, but it's my belief that anybody who wants to make money off selling condoms does not put a lot of priority in having a clean toity.

I've learned many things while visiting bathrooms, especially stalls. I've learned a lot about people, but don't know if it is actually true whether so-and-so provides a good time as I have never actually called the person to verify the this claim.

Plus, I've read many interesting poems and discovered that many people are apparently good or bad at several intimate activities that should be conducted only after marriage.

One thing that always irritates me is when a bathroom has the newspapers in the frame above the urinal. I'll get busy reading the paper and see something I want to read about inside, but can't access the information. I really feel that is a ripoff. If they are going to provide a newspaper to look at, a person should have access to the whole thing.

There is one other good thing about these. I always feel better using these because most people are attracted to reading the newspaper and I seldom get the eerie feeling that the nutso in the next urinal is trying to sneak a peek.

Enough for today. Farewell.