I returned to the great land of Texas this week (Monday - Thursday) and avoided the 200 emails that I would've been held to reading from work as well as the 100 emails from the likes of y'all, impotence enthusiasts, genatalia enlargement gurus, and the occasional bad hair day (read as "bald") curists! I had a great time while I was there. Thanks to my best bud, his cousins, and the multitude of ladies (Heh Heh Heh Heh...Alright...) that helped make the experience possible.
One thing I noticed while I was at a club made me wonder how men run the world. OK. You're at the urinal taking care of your business. You get a hold of all the appropriate parts and finally relieve yourself in a loud moan and grunt with an occasional fart to provide an odoriferous backdrop to the entire experience. Once finished and with a wiggle, a jiggle, and a little dance, you suit up your lower extremities in such a fashion such that you don't get beat down by a bunch of Bush-loving rednecks. A quick trip over to the bathroom attendant for splash of soap precludes you washing your hands feverishly like your mother is ready to hit you with a shoe if you forget. You look into the mirror and what do you see? Some dirty, nasty hillbilly taking a leak , splashing his humanly byproducts everywhere like the floor, the wall, and the guy next to him, talking about how the Cowboys could beat the US World Cup Soccer team in a "real game of football", and bragging about how big his member is. After he finishes up,he proceeds to directly walk out of the bathroom with a beer and a grunt!
ARGH!
No flush? No washing of hands? The spreading of Gawd knows how many venereal diseases, cat licks, and dried-up grease flakes? We invented fire! The pick up truck! Nyquil! The Playstation 2! We can put a man on the moon but yet we can't figure out how to flush and wash ourselves?!!
Dude...the world is in a lot of trouble...
Currently listening : S.C.I.E.N.C.E. By Incubus Release date: By 20 November, 2001 |