Monday, September 17, 2007
Long and hard is the manner in which you shall suck it
I'm done washing my hands after I shit or piss. No one else does it, so what's the point? Why bother to scrub my hands raw up to the armpits with hot, soapy water each and every time I use the can? I'm just going to end up touching door handles, parking meters, hand rails, and elevator buttons that thousands of other jerkoffs have touched after having their digits separated from raw feces by a millimeter of wet, disintegrating toilet paper. That should be plenty of barrier between me and disease-ridden, poisonous shit that I squeezed out of my colon, right? Soap and water? I say fucketh thee vigorously! Now let's grab a big ol' handful Doritos from the communal bag.
Um, do you think you could keep this new policy at work?
Uhhhh... no.
Ed, it's for everyone everywhere. Just give up. I did. Want to split this wrapperless Snickers bar?
Ang, yes. Mmmm hmm!!
I'm going to spit in your mocha...
Cooties, not before I wipe that smudge off your face with my dirty fingers! Ha ha!!!
I've decided I can still come to parties at your house if I bring a flask and you install an automatic revolving door for the entrance and one of those Star Trek doors for the bathroom.
And that Star Trek door *must* make the whooshing sound when it opens and closes.
I'd drive all the way to Eagan just to use that bathroom. It'll be more popular than the Larry Craig Memorial Airport Bathroom Stall.
I thought about how many times I've had to shake my boss' hand the other day when I saw him promptly leave the stall and exit the bathroom without washing...
I imagine you would only be adding to any smudges on poor cooties' face. But to be fair, you have to do it like a mom: lick your finger first and then smear your saliva on there. Nothing gets things cleaner than mom-spit.
Plus you would be recycling- colon to mouth to colon. It's the circle of life. (Hakuna matata.)
Way to go, Kristen. I threw up in my mouth a little.