First, I am sorry I haven’t been on in a bit. I first had a bout with the bad flu. The kind that not only amplifies my powers, but also leaves me with a sore throat (you can leave your sick minds at the door, this had more to do with almost vomiting and not from choking something down), headache and something I haven’t enjoyed since I was a child, the earache.
After the flu, my job picked up. I have recently gotten a promotion. My last role involved me fucking around, showing up at about 10ish and out for home around 10:15am. Long days would be until noon. Extremely long days meant driving 3 hours one way, working for 2 or maybe 3 then coming home. That was a once a month thing. Now I get in around 8 or 9 and go home around 6. Shitty. Working like a common commoner sucks balls. It does however give me bit more fulfillment as I generate more revenue than I used to. Well, not yet. But I get paid more and my bonus structure is no longer capped at 200% of revenue. Previously I could hit 200% of my revenue goal within the first 2 or 3 weeks, then spend the rest of the quarter fucking off with 15 minute or 1 hour days.
I have said that I would give you guys more updates on how I am planning to survive. First off, I am watching Doomsday Preppers. Just thinking about it is giving my pants and uncomfortable tightness and a yearning for release. It makes me very jealous, and sad that I am not nearly as prepared as some of these people. I do have one thing they don’t have, douchieness. So don’t be surprised to see me alive and getting it done when the bottom drops out. I wish that my other half had the same drive. She says shit like; do you really think you will make it? YES I FUCKING DO THINK I WILL MAKE IT. Or she will ask, how will we (insert something stupid) I WILL GET IT DONE. How can I provide a step by step when I don’t know what it will look like? How will I get food? I am not sure; I have some, and will grow, or steal it from you. That is when she says something like that is wrong, or no you won’t. YES I WILL. Unless you are willing to share, my family comes first to me. Just as I assume that your family comes first to you. Difference between us is that I have been mentally preparing to drink your milkshake for some time. I DRINK IT UP
Sorry for all the caps, just had to scream for a second. Next I am slowly cutting pizza rolls and mozzarella sticks from my diet, down to twice weekly already. So my heart will be in good condition. The most important thing is your state of mind. I have gotten some stuff together to keep my mind stately. However, I am in and always have been in an I will live state of mind.
I would suggest that you all start to realize that I will make it, and most of you won’t. It would be nice if most of you just give up, mentally and physically. Never mind, I take that back, most of you already have. GO FUCK YOURSELF. Sorry again, trying to be a good person. Don’t go fuck yourself. Don’t give up. Keep hope alive. It would be nice to have a bunch of semi normal people to hang out with after it all ends.
All in all what have you learned? Not much. Here is what I suggest, make a plan. Stop reading. Do it now. Decide where you are going to meet up as a family. Buy some water; just buy the cheapest water you can. I know that it doesn’t last long, those plastic bottles are only good for a year or two. When the time comes to get rid of it, give it to a shelter. Buy some canned goods every shopping trip. Just a few dollars’ worth, it will add up
UPDATE WE INTERUPT YOUR NORMALLY SCHEDULED BULLSHIT TO BRING YOU THIS NEWS.
Ok, you can read that as I don’t want to talk about that any more, or as I was too lazy to keep writing it. Whichever works for you.
Today I had three terrible things happen. Typically one or two is enough, but now a third and I have to report. I also had one great thing happen. Let me give you dessert first, I read that the community of Harrisburg, IL stood up to the Westboro Baptist Church you know the God hates Fags people. Funny they preach hate when Christ commands us to love our neighbor. Whatever, in any case the people of Harrisburg formed up better than even Voltron and formed a human chain 3000 people long to surround a cemetery. They kept the WBC from protesting. I saw pics of biker gangs standing next to homos standing next to house fraus. Friggin Beautiful. I almost got teary. So proud of the people in that community to allow families time to grieve without having to deal with the extra bullshit that some people who are pretending to be Christians want to add. They are make-believers not followers of The Lord. In truth, I feel a little sad towards the WBC, I mean the leader must have been touched, or gang raped, or Purdy mouthed in the hills of WV, or made to squeal like a pig. That type of hate can only come from personal, well you know. Tonight….. You…..
Ok, now that dessert is finished, let’s move on the appetizer. I am sitting in a cube that is located near someone who thinks that cheap vanilla scented everything is the cure for cancer and she has just been diagnosed. I am getting a headache just sitting here. It is strong. I think she may have taken a shit in her pants and is trying to cover it up. Disgusting. I hate the smell of vanilla; I would rather have her walking around in her shit pants.
Shit pants ties us in to the soup course. Driving in to work today I had that moment of panic in my stomach screaming that something is going to come out and I am still 20 minutes away from the office. I am 30 minutes away from home, so I have no real option other than keep on driving until I get there. I start to test the uncomfortable shifting in my seat waters, with a fart to relieve pressure. The fart is hot smelling, like my nostrils start to burn from not only the stench, but the actual heat that came from my ass. I opened a window, but the potency of my brew was too much for the air to just carry away. It took a good 5 minutes doing 60mph just to get the circulation of air fully in the car. During this time however, the pressure was never fully released, it just kept building. Like I had eaten Mentos and then drank a 2 liter of Diet Coke. I tried to fart again, but was struck by the realization that if I fart, I will shit my pants. I also knew that if I didn’t fart, I would shit my pants. My stomach was in pain. I am still almost 10 minutes from the office, and there is nowhere to pull over and shit I am on a shitty highway with exits only to other highways. I kept my wits about me and soldiered on. Finally I make it to the parking lot. I slowly get out of the car, because at this point sudden movement may cause an explosion. I sneak a fart out – very carefully, as the delicate mix I am carrying could explode. I am first hit by a blast of cold wind, and then the smell. This is a heavy fart. In all senses of the word. The wind literally cannot carry it away. Shame fills my nose, and I realize I won’t make it up the 4 floors in the elevator to my new office’s preferred stall. My only hope is that the guard can unlock the entry floor bathroom before the unthinkable happens to him. Yes I said him. I am not going to sully a pair of good pants; I will shit on the floor next to him. By the time I reached the guard station I am unable to speak due to the birthing pains I am going through. I just tried the bathroom door, and mercifully it turns. Sort of. Someone didn’t let it slam closed and left me just enough to get the door open. I shuffle to the stall, and hate filled I realize that someone has taken the handicapped one. The luxury booth. Asshole. DOESN’T HE KNOW I MAY SHOW UP AT ANY TIME? I don’t have time to let him know how I feel with words, so I choose to give it to him in song. A song from my ass. I have been cleared for takeoff, but not given enough time to get the ass gasket down to protect me from unknown evil lurking on the rim. Fuck it, I have to get this out. I feel the door to the stall shake as the sweet release comes. Time slows for me. I start to have that convulsion in my stomach like when you are vomiting, but the force is pushing everything out the other way. This happens sporadically for the next 15 minutes. 15 minutes of shitting with maybe a 4-5 second break between minute long outbursts. I hear the guy in my luxury suite trying to outshit me. His pathetic plops make it obvious he wasn’t prepared to defend this territory. He is clearly used to being king of the first floor shitter, but a new challenger has arrived, the king of all douchebags. The symphony that I play is equal parts horror, beauty, heat, fragrance, volume, and applesauce French onion soup. This fuck is trying to take down a tank with a spoon. I hear his breathing start to be erratic, then a quick flush and the stall open. Not even enough time for him to wipe. That is a Mike Tyson Knockout. It is good to be the king. I now rule not only the fourth floor, but the first now as well. After completion, I decided this beauty was too much for the world to see, so I flushed it. I guess it didn’t want to leave so it jammed the industrial toilet. YESH! Conquest shall be mine. I will rule all the shitters in this building.
Ok, let’s move to the main course. How can anything top that? You shall soon see why that is the soup course. It is like finding a great condition Topps baseball card, only to have your friend show you a fleer diamond in better condition. After any major earthquake you are bound to have what? Aftershocks, that is correct. I had probably 3 minor aftershocks, and then was struck by the urge to urinate. I head into the elevator to explore a new floors bathroom, to not only kill time, but to check out the competition I am facing. The first thought that struck me as maybe I work in a building filled with abnormals, is the fact the elevator has instructions on usage inside of it. Really? Instructions? Who doesn’t know how to use an elevator, other than small children and the challenged? Ding. I feel like Kirk ready to explore. Down the hall, and a turn towards my next conquest, I step in and hear someone else pissing. I turn the corner and am confronted by something that left me stunned. A guy at a urinal, pissing, with both hands interlocked on the back of his head. Who does that? Seriously, he looked like he was going to prove how cool he was riding a bike with no hands to a third grader. It was really odd. He had a scraggly kid toucher type look to him. A homeless man’s jacket, but a badge so he clearly worked in the building. It was really odd. I say that twice because, well it was. You ever see something that is just so weird that you can’t fully process it? He may have been an alien, but my brain shielded my innocence with a vision of a dude pissing with no hands. It is a four urinal bathroom, which is nice, but it has 3 normals and 1 kids. Why? I know that we have no kids in here, maybe for midgets? Whatever, worse, this guy chooses the middle of the three normal urinals. He gave me a creepy look, and I turned to head into a stall. I don’t always choose a stall to piss, but he creeped me out, so I wanted to lock the door. I should have just left. I knew it as soon as I saw him. A little piece of me said just turn around, and ride to another floor- this guy wins the urinals. If only I had my weapon ready so I could shit and he would just leave. He did the head bob hello, and tried to capture me with his gaze. I know how vampires, and Ghost Rider work so I averted my eyes, I had no power here. With my jutsu pretty much used up for the day I was almost powerless except for my overwhelming ability to be douche-y. That is when he struck. He spoke to me. First off I am not your friend, and even if I was, hold your fucking tongue. We have no need to speak in a bathroom. It can wait. A conversation is terrible as it is, but what this thing said to me I used to wish I could hear all the time in high school from every hot chick that walked by. He says all gravely like he is Tom Waits, “WHAT?! I suppose you want me to suck your dick now, don’t you? What the fuck is it with dudes, always wanting to get sucked off in a bathroom? Fine, whatever, let’s get this over with” all in the span of a few moments, not even giving me a moment to stop him during this whole odd exchange that he had with himself but I guess also with me. I just said “AHHH Nope, that’s alright” and then locked the stall. I had to pee sooo bad, but now was so creeped out, I couldn’t. I don’t think I work in a truck stop, or an adult theater. I can’t believe this happened. It is surreal, but I really really have to pee, so fuck it, I sat down and relaxed, and released my most evil concoction yet. I am rewarded with a special surprise. Boy oh boy am I glad I sat down, because what felt like a fart in my guts, was really piss from my ass. Followed closely with fart shits sharts in a steady stream of disgusting. It was so intense I had to courtesy flush for myself. Did I mention the guy was still there during all of this? No, ok, the guy was still there, standing next to the urinal the whole time. After the first flush, the consistency changed, closer to chocolate syrup. Still very liquid, but firming up. After a good two minutes it started to really thicken. Then I heard, “I’m not into this” and the door open and close. Relief flooded me. I will never enter that floor again. Although, maybe, I won. I finished up, and gave a final goodbye to the filth in the bowl. The aftermath was incredible on this as well. Like a snickers bar was left out in the sun and then tossed into the bowl. I was proud of my work, but still a little nervous due to what just happened. I washed my hands quickly then used the sanitizer because I am not sure what the fuck has gone down in that bathroom. I came back to my cube, and then immediately started typing.
And to all a goodnight
Your Patient Caring King
KING OF ALL DOUCHEBAGS