“I couldn't live a week without a private library - indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.”
― H.P. Lovecraft
Whistling In The Graveyard: November 25, 2007
Whistling In The Graveyard
WARNING: If you are offended by foul language or otherwise threatened by free and original thought in any way, then turn back now you flawed, pathetic example of everything that's wrong with this world. And while you're at it, get the fuck off my planet, seriously.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Yeah, I know it's just a joke, but I'd go see that movie.
It'd have to be better than that last piece of crap.
Ok, I've promised my sister that I would post an occasional 'guest rant' when she feels the urge. I told her I'd build her a blog of her very own if she wanted, but she's not quite ready to make the leap from her MySpace page yet. So give her a little encouragement and who knows?
Then again, maybe having a second person contributing to this blog will help satisfy some of you more impatient readers...
In any event, here's her first guest-post, which is actually her second guest-post, but I'm still tinkering with the pictures on the first one. So the second, first post from my darling sister whom I've invested a lot of time and effort into making as much like me as as a female member of the species can possibly get.
You be the judge.
ADVENTURES IN PUBLIC RESTROOMS THAT DON'T INVOLVE REPUBLICAN SENATORS By Cathy Maverick (Title by Ford W. Maverick)
I am not unlike a camel.
I can drink a lot and will wait until the last possible minute when it comes to using a public restroom. That's right, Cathy, The Camel, has two humps.
In addition, I'm a bit of a germ-a-phobe. Once I've decided it's time to take advantage of a public facility, I do my best not to touch ANYTHING with my bare hands or tush.
My cousin and I pulled up to the Louisiana Welcome Center after being on the road for what seemed like six days, in a car I wear like a small t-shirt . I rushed past my cousin and through the restroom door. She waddles these days. *Well, you do.*
I chose my stall, which is generally the handicapped one. I'm too much woman for most small ones... More space = less likelihood of having to touch stuff.
I swung open the door, and was astonished by something I had never seen before. The toilet was made entirely of stainless steel. It was an automatic toilet with no seat. I thought, "Well alright, I'll try just about anything once."
The bowl water was mucky, so I pushed the button (with my foot) to freshen it up. It flushed very strongly for 30 seconds.
Once it finished, I started putting paper on the nonexistent seat, but the paper slid off. I tried to fix it, made one wrong move, and it flushed again...
I then chose a smaller business center, thinking, "maybe this one isn't this finicky."
I got the situation under control this time. I'm doing my thing, and I made one wrong move...The toilet was now flushing with me on it...
Needless to say, this before mentioned germ-a-phobic, public restroom avoider was not wiggling with joy.
It happened to my cousin too. She laughed while I gagged. I cringed just right, and mine flushed again. The toilets were taunting us with their abnormally strong flushes!
I finished what I was doing, pulled up my britches, and opened the door (with paper of course).
I started to wash my hands as a girl said, "I wonder if they know that toilet is overflowing?"
I gasped and checked it out. Two doors down, the amazing 30 second flushing toilet was spewing 30 seconds worth of water on the floor and into the neighboring stalls.
I'm glad I didn't go next to that girl...
Take that, you crazy toilets.
I rushed out quickly. This camel is now even choosier about the restrooms she uses.
So it's a start. A disappointing lack of profanity aside, at least it's about the restroom. She does that toilet paper thing at my house too. I can't really blame her, but she uses like half a roll of fucking toilet paper doing it.
How do I know? Because she doesn't flush it when she's done. She tosses it in my trashcan, just so I'll KNOW that she wasted half a fucking roll of toilet paper.
That shit don't grow on... awright it kinda grows on trees, but not in the form you'd wanna wipe your ass with.