Smut Thursday: The Early Edition

So, apparently this past weekend I ate something that didn't agree with me, and we still haven't come to a compromise. Well, either that or a demon has taken up residence in my GI tract. I've never seen so much sick shit come out of my body, quite literally in some cases.

It all started Monday afternoon. I got back from the beach, and just putzed around the house getting everything in order for the rest of the week. That's when the rumbling started. I spent a goodly portion of the evening expelling fluids. It wasn't too painful for the first 20 minutes or so, and I actually tried to make a game of it; but after that I started getting scared. For a while I wondered if I was going to start deflating or something; but finally the flow slowed to a trickle.

Yesterday I got nothing; it was the complete opposite of the day before. I think if I would have tried to spit or pee, I would've just produced dust. Everything today was fine until the afternoon - when the demon once again began to rumble. Now, as I've told you before, I'm very picky about my bathrooms. This makes using one at work, especially for what I really needed to do, very difficult. Plus, right about the time I was on the verge of bursting; a group of auditors from the state showed up. Seriously, I ran all over my workplace at a dead sprint from about 12:30 until 4:00. I would run down to records, pull the info I needed, sprint back to my office, toss it on the desk and sprint to the bathroom. Then I'd come back from the bathroom, grab the info from my desk, coallate it on the elevator, sprint to the auditors, drop it off, spin right back around and make a beeline for the bathroom. All the while while fighting the incredible instinct to let something foul explode from my face or my ass. It fucking sucked.

The part that really pissed me off was the end of the day. The VP asked me into her office to have one of those chill-down sessions. You know, you and the higher-ups have been busting ass all day and they want to sit down with you and take a load off. Hey, normally I'm all about that shit. Get out the Cubans you rich assholes, let's tell some dirty jokes! But today was not the day. So I'm sitting there trying to get out of the office while these people are all chatting it up. I begin backing away from the group while they're busy yapping; I'm trying not to sweat, pinching the quarter and simultaneously swallowing that massive amount of spit that seems to fill your mouth seconds before you spray your lunch all over someone's wall. I was inching towards the door, but eyeing the trashcan just in case. I really didn't want it to come to me shoving my ass in a trashcan in front of those who would one day vouch for my work experience, but I was wearing a pair of really nice pants and I wasn't about to ruin them. As soon as I passed the office threshold, I was racing down the hall towards the men's room. I distinctly remember unclasping my belt and loosening my pants before I was even in the bathroom. I slammed the door, locked it, and began what I can only describe as the most disgusting, privately humiliating experience of my life. It's a good thing it was late enough that most people had already gone home, because I'm pretty sure the muffled sound coming through the walls would have set someone wretching. Or at least to the nearest phone to call the paramedics or something. It took me like ten minutes to clean the stupid bathroom up. I just hope I have a job in the morning. more...

Posted by: shank at 07:33 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 735 words, total size 4 kb.

Went to the dentist yesterday. I've mentioned before that I hate going to the doctor and being poked, probed, or otherwise...violated. Can't stand it. Now, my teeth are extraordinarily healthy (no fillings, nothing), amazing considering I don't give them much thought between the two brushings they get each day. I'm definitely glad for it though; and I don't normally mind seeing the dentist. Except when the dental hygienist inflicts excruciating pain on me with her implements. Where the do those evil bitches get those fuckers from anyway? Do they shop for supplies in the torture aisle at Home Depot or what? This bitch was scraping my teeth with something roughly the size of a gaff one might use to bring a championship marlin on board. Fucking OW.

So while she's clawing and burrowing at and around my teeth and gums, I'm sitting there trying not to flinch. I mean, I don't want this battle axe thinking I'm some kind of pussy right? Then she scrapes right along the gumline on one of my prize molars. This shudder runs throughout my whole body, everything goes limp, I can even feel the hair on my arms cringing. My body shook itself right out of the chair and onto the floor.
"GEEEEAAWWWWW!" I screamed.
"Oh," she coos, all grandmotherly, "Must've been a little root showing." She titters, giggles almost.
I push myself up off the floor and back into the chair. I'm pretty sure this woman had a tazer in her pocket, because I damn near lost bowel control.
A few minutes later she finishes up, and I rinse. I look down at that bib they put around me, and it's fucking spotted with blood. MY blood. I did a quick check with my tongue to make sure all my teeth were still there, because by the looks of that bib I was probably going to bleed out pretty soon. Did she accidentally stab my jugular? Exactly what the fuck is going on here?

The dentist comes in. Finally, a licensed professional. They lean me back, and this fucker, who must have the easiest job this side of a candybar salesman at fat camp; does little more than touch each tooth with the end of his metal implement. Literally, he spoke seven words to me, waved the sign of the cross with over my yawning mouth, and split. Fuck! Come back here dude, you gotta stitch me up! Fucking nurse Gein over here just tried to turn my mouth into a patchwork quilt! What about the Hippocratic Oath you son of a bitch?!

I didn't know you could get thrown out of a doctor's office. I thought that was only, like, bars and shit. Damn.

Posted by: shank at 05:01 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 468 words, total size 3 kb.

Is 'tomorrow' an actual place in time, or simply a concept? I mean, people often will reference 'tomorrow' at 2am when they're actually talking about the very same day. The thing is, this doesn't confuse anyone; which I assume means that there's a conceptual understanding of tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't simply defined as the day following 12am; it's more like, the day that follows my sleep; whenever that may be. Which I kind of like, since I tend to enjoy thinking about time and it's passage as a more conceptual, fluid progression as opposed to a linear model. You know that's one of the reasons why the Navajo language was so effective as a code? Their concept of time is more similar to a woven mat than the European concept of a time line.

And check this out, Tom Cruise's new movie isn't doing so hot. People are saying it's because he's been so openly wingnutting his way through press appearances. I caught this article off Drudge from FoxNews that throws the numbers out on how bad the movie's doing, and how Paramount is pissing its pants over the cash losses. Then I hit this sentance:
And that's the irony here: "M: I3" is a terrific action film. Director J.J. Abrams did a great job, and the entire cast from Cruise right through to the team and various supporting players do a convincing job.
Cruise has several fantastic stunts that will take your breath away. It would be a shame if everyone waited to watch it at home on small screens.
For some reason, after the article had spent some time discussing the suckitude of the film at the box office; this portion just felt odd. Then it dawned on me. Who owns Fox? Hmm...yeah, wait for it; Paramount. Nice ad placement, but I think I'll wait for the DVD. There are just too many reasons to avoid theaters anyways.

The wife and I just bought this digital video camera, and it's one bad mofo too. I'm thinking of rigging up an in-car mount for the camera to record track days from the cockpit perspective. Which is another hobby I think I might start back up with again. I ran a full season of SOLO-II events and won 1st in my class for the region. Haven't hit the track in the past year or so since then though. Maybe I'll start back up. It would give me an excuse to use the cam.

Posted by: shank at 02:52 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 418 words, total size 2 kb.

So, I finally finished my MBA. Made my last presentation to the client company on Monday, and they were pleased. The faculty actually congratulated me on earning my MBA on the spot, which gave me the warm fuzzies. Yeah, sometimes I do get the warm fuzzies. Does that make me gay? I don't think so, but I'm no expert. Anyways, I give you the:

more...

Posted by: shank at 09:15 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 524 words, total size 3 kb.