Proper Ways of Toileting and other things you should have learned in Kindergarten

-- Trying an iPad post again: this May prove frustrating. Especially since it capitalized the word May and this one- hand typing is shitsville. We'll see what happens.

-- I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned here that Rachel and I have a night job too - we do janitorial work, cleaning an office building here in town. Long story, but it's a gig we've always done. I think I've mentioned it before but whatever. Anyway, I was thinking tonight, as I cleaned the bathrooms like I've done thousands of times before, that men are pretty much pigs. The women's washroom? Someone might have a particularly large poop that may inadvertently leave skid marks in the toilet, and there is someone who, from time to time, seems to pee with a little too much gusto and gets some urine under the seat, but otherwise, all you really gotta do there is clean the mirrors and sink. Easy peasy as the Brits say with their bad teeth full of canned peas. But the men? It's a whole other ball game.  Sure, it's not like a hole in the floor shitter in China or anything, and while they obviously obsessively wash their hands, as evidenced by the amount of paper towel each night that's used, they nevertheless aren't as careful about ass cleanliness. Night after night after night, I go into that shitter, and 8 times out of 10, the three toilet stalls have toilet seats that need to be cleaned because there is like... How do I say this politely... shit residue on the backs. Like, I'm sure the top of their ass cracks are full of smeared poop and it thusly gets on the toilet seat. And so gross. However, whatever, we all have our crosses to bear, and I fully realize that we fellas might have larger asses and hairier asses, and all sorts of things that just may make toileting at work a smidge more difficult. I know firsthand the embarrassment of pooping in public with someone you know next to you, and the panic of having to wrestle handfuls of one-ply out of the dispenser, and having to keep wiping until it becomes a two flusher and then worrying Johnboy next to you is going to secretly tell everyone about your endless, messy shit. I get it. But fellas, the least you can do is wipe the fucking seat after you pull up your pants. Really. Don't tell me you don't glance at your business when you turn around to flush - everyone does the poop check. You gotta see your poop on the seat. Clean it the fuck up. This one stall also is home to the booger wall, but I'll save THAT story for another day. Man, at my work, we have private staff bathrooms, but I'll often just use the public because the private are stressful. There's always someone waiting, so you gotta poop fast so they don't know you are pooping, and since people seem to poop all the live long day, it always smells and people always think it's you. There's not a lot of poop on the seat incidents there, but enough. And one day I sat down without looking and lil JT was brushing up against this long pube stuck to the side of the bowl. I quickly did a mental panic, trying to figure out who has brown hair, and then called Rachel and said if I end up with crabs, it's from the toilet seat. So, lesson of the day: leave the shitter as you found it.

-- Just read that Lamar and that Khardashian are splitting up. Shocker. Also see that Clooney is single again. Ladies, for the love of God, if he still can't stay with anyone, something is fucking wrong with him. He's either gay or an addict or mean or likes to give coffee enemas or he's crazy or something, but really: if you have 1/2 the female population jumping at you and nobody works? Maybe it's you. Just sayin'.

-- sorry for the short post again, but I'm at 5% charge so I'm just gonna read now. Y'all have a happy Sunday, y'hear?