CRUSADER OF THE T.P.

As Lord of the T.P.(post 06SEP2011) my goal was to establish my Kingdom, claim the Toilet paper from the available stalls, thereby creating a single source for shit paper, and then forming a peasant class which had no choice but to beg for my T.P, and could then be more easily converted to the faith.  Since then God has blessed me with much favor in that I now control, not only my own stall, but three of the five other stalls within the public bathroom.  My Kingdom has grown as has my dominance in the area.  I usurped two of the three stalls, which I now control, by locking the stall doors from the inside by reaching over from the other stall.  To outsiders, even though no feet were visible beneath the stalls the fact that the doors were obviously locked completely deterred even the most determined of them, thus forcing them to use the last two stalls.  On the third of three stalls I had conquered, I went so far as to put a pair of spare gym shoes at the base of the toilet itself.  As would-be Lords of the T.P. attempted to get into the stall they noticed the tips of shoes from beneath and were immediately ran off.  I was to be the ONLY Lord of the T.P. in this bathroom!  I was on a mission from God himself to vanquish the vile scum which attempted to inhabit the glorious stalls of Publicus Bathroomus, the land which I now claimed for my own and for the Almighty.  As I had previously stated; three out of five stalls had been conquered; leaving a stubborn two left.  The crowds were already surging around the row of stalls as only those last two were left to facilitate all needs of the scourge outside.  I was determined to take those last two from the demon spawn wishing to pray to their false porcelain gods.  Those hell beasts, who offered chocolate eggs to their evil spirits, within their swirling pools of despair and hate.  I SHALL CAST THE DEMONS FROM THE LAND OF GOD AND ALL SHALL KNOW THAT I AM HE WHO DOTH BROUGHT THE WRATH OF THE HEAVENS TO LIGHT THE PATH TO GLORY!!  I already had six converts to the faith who were ready to serve me as I saw fit.  I dictated my wishes to them that upon my exorcising the demons from the last two stalls they were to occupy the land and stand their ground.  I gathered frigid purified sink water in a bucket and with all the power I could muster, dumped it over the doors of both stalls.  The demons came bursting out in all their half naked filth, writhing, hissing, and screaming.  My apprentices quickly leapt into the open chasms of the stalls and slammed the doors shut barring the spawns of Satan from ever returning.  Despite brief yet passionate protests and howling by the demons, they eventually left, and thus all five stalls had been claimed for the Lord of the T.P., my followers, and for the glory of the Almighty!

TRAPPED ON DOUCHE BAG ISLAND

I’m sure you’ve all known that one work associate or acquaintance that is a total condescending douche bag.  They always feel it necessary to make you look stupid or correct you with some paltry bit of knowledge they know that you don’t, in order to validate themselves.  The IT computer guy at (insert company) comes to mind as a good example.  “Ummm .. It’s Windows 7, not Vista … du’h… the HTML doesn’t load the same, hehehe, everybody knows that, stupid.”  Yeah, you know the type.  Luckily, in life, those unique personalities are only sprinkled amongst society.  Unluckily for me, I was recently trapped in a room with 6 of them all at once.  When you die, and if you were a bad boy or girl, and are religious, and go to hell, the idea is to suffer for eternity reliving the worst nightmare imaginable.  If I had the choice of going through one more day with those shitheads OR to suffer an eternity of having Satan himself butt fuck me with his huge horn-shaped and spike covered red cock while having my balls scorched with a butane torch; I would pick the latter.  

The amazing thing is that they apparently have no idea what incredible pricks they are, and it’s not even worth letting them know because they can’t even conceive of themselves as anything other than awesome.  I mean, I suppose I may be a douche bag, myself, without even knowing it, however it’s extremely unlikely due to the fact that I am fucking amazing, have a huge penis, and everyone fucking loves me, but you get the idea.  So, I’m stuck in this room with them, let’s just say it was a training seminar that allowed opportunities for everyone to express themselves.  I was unusually introverted, as to not provoke more moronic conversation than was absolutely necessary.  I spent 6 hours gritting my teeth and wincing in pain as I was ear-raped by these spider monkeys; these human-hyena hybrids; these….fucking douche bags.  Like having to listen to finger nails down a chalk board or a fork scraping zigzag on a ceramic plate, I was tortured relentlessly.   Debates raged on about who was the most travelled, the best athlete, the most highly trained, had the most divorces, who was the most  mature due to their knowledge of 80’s and 90’s trivia (the last topic was a draw due to everyone’s equal knowledge level when it came to ThunderCats and Gloria Estefan music).   Just as I drew the imaginary Smith&Wesson revolver from it’s hallucinated holster, cocked the lucidly dreamt hammer back, and placed it to my quivering temple, the instructor notified the class that we were done.  I was drenched in sweat and shaking, but it was all over.  I had survived, without going to prison for disemboweling every fucking cocksucker in the place with my Las Vegas Nudie Girl revealing ball point pen.