i’ve been dealing w/my “sidearm” for the past 3 years now and it’s tough for me to meet people. because of this, i stopped goin’ to the clubs, workin’ out at the gym and doing all the other things that used to bring me into contact with attractive young ladies. so, i started using online dating services.

after a few, through craigslist, i was able to find a nice forum that was filled with understanding people who were either suffering w/the same problem or sympathetic.

so, me and “Mahogany” met at www.brownthighedgirls.com on the DatScat! board. she was into the same music as i was, liked video games and got a special tingle when i unleashed the bag’s chunky goodness upon her. she *really* liked it when i would pour it into her shoes and leave it there as a surprise for her.

eventually, we got engaged and i looked forward to the day that we would live as man & wife. about a week away from our special day, she goes on her bachelorette party and apparently, her girlfriends (nasty sluts that they are) payed the dancer to take a crap on her belly. she said the fresh warm soft-serve was the best she had ever had and that she was going to leave me.

i tried to find out what was in that guys diet in an attempt to win her back. i even began dumping my bag in her gas tank and writing letters on her windshield. it didn’t work and eventually she moved out of the city w/out telling me.

i loved her.
i still miss her to this day.

so, on my way to men’s bathroom 5N, i walk by an older manager of manager. i don’t think he’s above me in the company tree, but he most certainly is a six figga non-nigga. quick headnod, it’s reciprocated and a dumping i will go. 12-15 minutes later, i am yet to defeat solitaire and my turdsquisher has been thorughly wiped and air-dryed like a Kensigton girl’s ponytail and it’s time to step out of the stall and get back to work. now, a couple minutes ago, i had heard someone entering good ol’ 5N and using the adult pisser. he was fuckin’ around finishing and splashin’ water and i disobeyed one of The Rules by stepping out to meet eyes with the lurker.

and, of course, as i foreshadowed above, you know who it was. another head nod, except, this time, he knew i just threw a good 15-20 minutes of company time down the shitter.

now, he either feels that i am a ridiculous loser that just spent the last 20-25 minutes in the handicapped stall jerkin’ off to the usa today life section (that broad that wrote about the prince/ jt feud is an idiot) -or- he may think that i had the ill bubble, but the good discretion to courtesy flush away the stank. let’s hope it’s the latter.

yan thinks that writing a book about, or at least, centering my current writings around the shits i take at work is a horrible idea. she’s on that bullshit, of course. every dude i know has a shitting regimen — certain techniques used to minimize smell, maximize after shit sitting time, favorite stalls… it’s more thought put into the daily shit than all of the valentines day gifts across this here globe. double truth, ruth.