Monthly Archives: December 2012

Confessions About Poop, A Very Mature Post

Usually, pooping is untold relief. Sometimes pooping is absolutely dreadful. It may be that morning after a night of drinking. It may be coming home after eating Hooter’s hot wings. It may be the absolute worst one…post baby delivery first poop or as I like to call it third birth.

stinkyface

Actually, this guy has a scratch and sniff picture of Ke$ha

So I comprised a list of the most dreadful poops in life:

The New Relationship Poop at the House.

There's something I've got to tell you...maybe show you if it's impressive enough

There’s something I’ve got to tell you…maybe show you if it’s impressive enough

Despite the obvious truth, everybody poops, it’s really difficult to let a new partner know this. When you progressively spend more time together you inevitably spend enough time for the digestive system to need evacuation. That first time you are at their house and you go to the restroom, it’s terrifying. I personally get anxiety, and don’t want to admit to myself what is about to happen. It’s time to take things to the next level. I go ahead and embarrass myself by announcing, the impending deuce I’m about to drop. Because by not telling and letting said person go in the restroom directly after me only to smell what the Rock is cooking is horrible. Much more embarrassing.  So I usually say, “Um, don’t go in that bathroom, give it like five to ten…just sayin’…love that shirt…look a unicorn on TV!” However, once that initial earth shattering monumental step has been taken, it’s over forever and pretty soon your opening the door while your duking just to say what a stupid bitch Jill at work is and her new haircut looks like she was infested with lice while in an eighteenth century British prison…fuck her.

Public Poop

I think she has to poop too, so the problem cancels out autonomously

I think she has to poop too, so the problem cancels out autonomously

Pooping in public is intimidating and scary. The private bathrooms offer some solace. The chances of the person following behind you in a one person restroom being someone you know aren’t very likely, there being like billions of people on the planet. However even strangers are troublesome in a multiple stall restroom. They walk in, and they know that your pair of feet is the cause for the hearty aroma. They know you had to poop and couldn’t finish shopping at Micheal’s, you had to put aside the glitter, yarn and beads to go work on a new project. Now, if I’m finished, I’m too ashamed to come out if it was indeed me that was pooping. I’ll wait the other person out, thinking, come on, how long are you going to stand in here? However if I’m done and the restroom is empty, I have no problems with someone walking in. It’s a crime with no perpetrator then. See, anyone else could have left that phantom poop. It’s not always the person applying lip gloss at the mirror. I’m not caught at the scene of the crime, now I’m just and accessory after the fact. Or maybe I think this because I don’t readily accuse the person still in the restroom. That’s unfair. The suspect could have fled minutes ago. Either way, I try to make it home.

I am ashamed of nothing.

I am ashamed of nothing.

Well, those two scenarios are probably the worst I can think of. Sometimes I ask God if he’s real, then ask if he’s listening, then I just ask him why do we poop and why did I drink so much coffee? I don’t really get answer, and I don’t forget to courtesy flush.

Business Proposals and Nudity, Nudity…Nudity

Greetings readers, lovers, lovers of men, lovers of women, lovers of Chaz Bono. What shall my topic be today? Today I want to talk about failed romance, broken dreams and ca$h fuckin’ money.

I'm Chaz!

I’m Chaz!

I have recently started a new relationship and so far I’ve been really happy and very excited about it (I am doing a shrilly girl scream as I type thisssss!) This is good, good for me. Sorry Gavin Rossdale, our adulterous affair must end. It’s over. Stop calling me. Or, just send me nude text messages.

555-4415

555-4415

Well, I’ve ranted against exes in the past. I’m far enough removed from the hurt feelings (and there were a lot) to not really get nasty in this post. Who wants to hear goddamn Morrisey the entire forty minute car ride with the singing along. Hint: not me. Reality check; one time someone said you look like Bruce Willis not fucking true, stop thinking that. Today. Okay, that’s it, I’m done.

You see, I’m twenty-eight. That being said I’m at the age where you can either date a romantically dysfunctional person or you can hope with fingers, toes, and eyes crossed someone awesome will have been dating someone who sucks…and here they are post break up or divorce and ready to be good to you. I’m hoping that’s the case.

Walgreens ran out of cards...

Walgreens ran out of cards…

Now, about eight months ago, in the depths of post break up despair, I had the support of some wonderful friends. One in particular that listened to the tear-filled angst. She sat patiently as I did this, a lot, because who likes to feel played and foolish? Not me, probably not many people.

We talked of course about her exes and mine and how crazy they act sometimes. Then there was a light bulb.

We could actually start a dating service for people who are already couples but have troublesome exes. Maybe only one person does. Maybe they both do. Either way, we know the best way to get an ex of your nuts is to get them on someone else’s right?

So it’s only logical to set up the ex with someone who is single, looking and tragically co-dependent! You see, the screening process is simple, applicants will be asked general questions about relationships and the one’s most cuckoo for cocoa puffs will be set up with your totally unaware ex, with “clandestine” meetings.

This means that the crazy ex can then have a crazy fucking new boyfriend or girlfriend and probably won’t call or text because for the eleventh time their phone has been smashed to bits because a female cousin asked for grandma’s new number.

images (3)

On paper this seems pretty awesome. My friend is a genius. I think perhaps we’re really on to a possibly successful business venture. Either way it made for great laughs at times when, admittedly, I didn’t feel much like laughing. Now, well damn that’s old news. That dude can take so no less that one thousand dicks in his mouth.

Besides, losers and jerks make you appreciate the smallest of genuine sincerity as you embark on a journey with someone new. Those are not fun life lessons, but if they are learned, they become valuable tools in all relationships. Meaning friends and family, not just the person you have sexy time with…unless that’s your thing. Which, I suppose is cool.

How I Reached for the Stars

Today I want to discuss jobs. I have switched careers and now I work as a nurse.

“I think you’ve got a fever, I’ll need to check that…rectally”

It may surprise you, the faithful Facehookin’ reader, to know that I worked in both the state prison and county jail as none other than a correctional officer before going to nursing school.

“It’s time for your visit, and by that I mean conjugal, and by that I mean sex…I’m not so good at this.”

So you may ask how one would make such a leap from one career field to the other? Well, simply because I can’t be an LOL cat.

Because I’m a fucking human.

I’m grateful everyday I pay my student loan because I love being a nurse. I had my son and decided it was time for a career I wanted to be in for the duration of my working years.

Now you may ask if it was difficult to deal with inmates? No, actually they weren’t usually all that bad. I mean, you just expected some of them to be assholes and some were, no big deal.

Most accurate representation of a correctional facility

However even sporatically dealing with drunks, and crazed idiots on bath salts might have made the place less desirable to work than say, waking in a bathtub full of ice and a note saying one of your kidneys was stolen. So what was something I dreaded more than all of it?

Working  with “Old heads” and Delusions of Grandeur

Okay, so I think at a lot of jobs people that stay at the same place of employment like to brag that they spent overwhelming majority of their adult life there.

“Never free, Never me, So I dub thee unforgiven…”

Which is fine, but these people always wanted to say one name in particular to raise some consequentially impressed eyebrows. Fate Thomas. Fate….Goddamn…..Thomas. Get it? Got it? Good. You better or a fiery vengeance will be wrought upon you and your posterity.  This dude, besides admittedly having a pretty cool name, was the sheriff…um, like a long time ago. Thus being present for the Fate Thomas era made all hearing aware that said employee has been with the agency for decades. There have been other sheriffs, but none with names that command attention, respect, fire. So in service training was two grueling days of classes like;  sexual harassment, workplace safety, mental health, first aide, CPR and the list goes on.

It never failed that at some point during classes some decrepit old bastard would interject, “Back in the Fate Thomas days…” Then some elaborate story would ensue about how county jail thirty years ago was a post apocalyptic battlefield and the inmates were half breed human gorillas capable of murder, murder everywhere. The officers it seems were all….um…

This bad ass….

This bad ass….

Yes. I’m serious.

According to these guys, there were fights and riots. Riots and then fights, um death, fights, riots, riots and fights. And fire. And Fate “Son of a Bitch” Thomas. Every day. These war stories took up time that the instructor needed to tell us not to sexually harass each other anymore and how to perform CPR. Not the Fate Thomas way, which was immediate setting fire to said inmate for dying during a riot.

The man, the legend, Fate…

Actually working with these guys was pretty bad, for one, the had to remind you every day that they were there longer than you have been alive. They had to tell you resolutions to problems that might have been acceptable in the 70’s, you know, like let’s disco all night. Well, maybe not that but, they never really had a current or relevant solution. Only stories, epic stories, comparable to those told by Homer.

Perhaps other reasons I’d rather not use this venue to expound on why that particular place wasn’t my cup of tea. I will say some pretty incredible supervisory titles materialized over the years…

Vice President Chief…Seventh Level Dragon Master…

I always wished Fate would become wrathful with the lack of violence withing the facilities and bring about his powerful spiritual vengeance and then salt the earth…only to fly into the sun and burst, spreading his incredible ashes among us. Or maybe just give me a make-believe position of power.