cluttering the net since 2001

Pubic stare

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAAAAANNN HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU…..and mannny moreeee.. *PoeticaL jumps out of a big giant monkey cake and strips away all of her clothes piece by piece and throws her panties at 'da birfday boy! *smooches*

I can’t believe I am going to write about this. This proves that nothing is off limits. I work with 7 men. We have a problem here today. Most days we all get along and while it’s never quiet, it is insanely loud here…. we do get along with no problems. There’s always a ton of shenanigans going on. Currently Unger is having a “lets take each others shit and hide it” game with another coworker I’ll call Big Red because he’s got red hair and is Irish. Big Red stole Unger’s pen, judge gavel and headset. Unger stole Big Red’s entire phone cord and Big Red is hunting for it right now. I just paged Unger and told him “hey why are you playing petty reindeer games, just take his keys out of his desk drawer and go out to the parking lot and move his car somewhere else so when he leaves for lunch….*poof* his car is missing.

Unger did it. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAAHA… I can’t wait for lunch.

Like I said, we all get along…no problems…except for the bathroom. We all share one bathroom. One toilet, one sink! It is the source of all grief imaginable. There’s just the general nastiness of a group of guys that are not cleanly. No one replaces the toilet paper and waits for someone to get screwed in there with none and then they all laugh hysterically outside on the sales floor. Or there are the few times that the toilet stopped up and we all sat around with crossed legs taking turns driving down the street hunting for a public restroom in a neighborhood where I swear no one “pees”.

Or the time someone (we all knew who it was) pissed all over the floor behind the toiler and all over the wall and then left it there. I got accused of doing it because we all accused each other. My reply “If I am that muscularly talented I am in the wrong career don’t you think?” I was quickly ruled out as the culprit.

Today Unger goes into the bathroom and comes out laughing hysterically. There’s a pubic hair the size of Texas on the toilet. It is monstrous and of course no one is claiming it. Again, I can only say I am acutely aware that it’s not mine. There is just no way its mine and this just leads me to wonder…which one of my coworkers should I buy a weed eater for? This also leads me to wonder how big is the package that requires a ribbon that long…???
10:52 a.m. ::
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