from May 28, 2008
I hate fucking assholes in the bathroom (And I mean that in every possible way!) Its an old story but it happened to me again today. Second damn time! Look, I’ve covered this before awhile back so you know that when I go to the bathroom, I’m all business. I’m not there to talk, not there to socialize, not there to make friends, tap my foot, use a wide stance, whatever. I go in, do what I got to do, and leave. And leave me alone while I’m there. I run into Rick, he’s telling me UFT news. I hide in a stall, Phil starts talking to me about the Principal. And today was Ken Fucking Asshole. I walk into the bathroom, and standing there at the urinal is Ken. Not a pretty sight on the best of days, but the fact of life in a men’s room is guys stand at urinals. (BTW- why is the urinal, like, right next to the sink? I don’t need a guy rubbing lotion on his hands so close to my junk.) But Ken doesn’t just unzip his fly. He drops his pants to the floor, stands there in his white briefs, shirt hiked up around his armpits, and pisses for all the world looking like one of those damn pissing Cupid statues (if Cupid was a Barney Rubble look-alike.) No one wants to see that! No one wants to see his ass stretching the cotton of his underwear. None wants to see 95% of his liver-spotted skin exposed when all I want to do is make a pit stop. What is up with that? Is he hoping the right man will come along? (Read that again- it’s a double entendre.) Just like the first time this happened to me, I turned around and walked out. I pissed on the third floor today. Ken Fucking Asshole!
Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride 
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