Holy
crap in a Bundt pan...
Due to the
recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be
clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to
serve, baby.
The
State of My Fat Ass A journal of
sorts, updated every once in a while.
--
I was in a furniture store over the weekend, looking at big ol'
sectional couches. I have an obsession, that just flared up again, with
fixing up our family room. I mentioned the TV yesterday, but I'd like to
overhaul everything, not just the television situation. We have a living
room upstairs, with newish furniture, hardwood floors, fancy rugs, etc.
But downstairs is the room where we spend our evenings. It's where we
watch TV, snuggle 'neath the Scrote-watching blankets, and all that good
stuff. And it's far from aesthetically pleasing.
Currently it's "furnished" with stray pieces of furniture
we've picked up along the way, all mismatched of course. In the corner
is a chair we bought in California that now has a rip in it,
strategically located to make people invariably crack, "Did you
fart that thing apart, Jeff?" Our 1000 lb television with the tiny
screen sits atop some cheap-ass stand that we bought at IKEA in Burbank,
and is just crying out to be hurled into a landfill. In one
corner sits all my DVDs, just stacked up in the floor.
The room looks exactly like every apartment I ever had in my twenties,
without the copies of Swank and Domino's box(es) full of crusts.
So, every few months I get it in my head that we should just bite the
bullet and fix it up. Oh, we have a vision. We'd like to toss all of the
old furniture, and buy a big sectional couch that goes in front of two
walls. Know what I mean? And, of course, there will have to be the
gargantuan TV, and possibly even the full-on theater system. Toney wants
to cover the walls in vintage travel posters, and the whole thing just
brings a tear to my eye when I imagine it.
But, of course, it will require considerable fundage, or we'll have to
accept the idea of taking on more debt. Therefore, we're currently
engaging in a lot of hemming and hawing, and little else. It's an old
familiar story.
None of that is what I was planning to talk about, though.... I was in
the furniture store on Saturday, and passed a bathroom. I told Toney I'd
catch up to her, and slipped inside for a quick coffee-scented pee. As I
stood there letting nature takes its course, I realized that somebody
was in one of the booths -- shitting. There was a lot of
grunting, heavy breathing, and what sounded like a kid playing scales on
some sort of reed instrument.
We've discussed this before, and I'm not
joking when I tell you that this sort of thing is baffling to me. I'm 43
years old, have been around the block a few times, and simply can't
imagine a series of events that would ultimately lead to me taking a
shit in a furniture store. Ya know? I mean, this obviously wasn't a case
of the runs either, the dude was laboring. What the hell, man?!
I sincerely don't understand. And it's everywhere we go. It seems the
entire world is crapping, all the time. Target... Outback Steakhouse...
the circus... it doesn't matter. If you enter a public restroom,
there's a good chance some guy will be in there taking a big whistling
dump. It's mind-boggling to me. Never, in all my life, have I said,
"Oh, I don't know, honey. That Sealy TrueForm Gold looks like a
really good mattress -- I have to shit."
But am I the weird one here? It's well-documented that I've mastered the
art of mind-over-waste matter. My body knows there's no point in even
asking anymore, there will be no sit-downs during the day. That's to be
handled at home, in the morning and/or evening. Crapping at a Wegman's
will simply never happen to me; I'll travel to the moon first. But am I
in the minority? Am I the freak? Apparently so.
I remember walking into a bathroom at some horrible rock club in
Greensboro years ago. It was just one big room with a tragically stained
toilet in the corner, the seat long-since ripped free and probably out
in the alley. Some dude was in there -- at a rock show! -- trying to
keep his balance and hovering over the bowl. As I walked through the
door I saw his bare white ass, and something swinging from it. I
still have nightmares.
And my brother knows a guy who is a truck driver. He told him recently
that he was hauling a load through Chicago, in the middle of the
day, and suddenly needed to crap with a great urgency. He weighed his
options and didn't think he could make it to the next rest area or truck
stop. So he pulled his rig to the side of the highway, turned on the
emergency flashers, pulled his pants down and hung his butt cheeks over
the guard rail.
I mean, seriously. Is that action understandable to any of you? Or are
you like me, and suspect showboating? Either that, or the man needs to
see a physician, straight away. I know that nobody likes a braggart, but I
could've easily made it to Nebraska from metro Chicago. Possibly
Wyoming.
What about you? Have you ever been "caught short" and forced
to use the bathroom in an unusual place? Tell us about it in the
comments, won't you? For some reason I'm fascinated by this phenomenon,
and also mildly skeptical.
My friend Tim told me that when he was in the Army he was stationed
somewhere with a bathroom that featured toilets in a circle. Just right
out in the middle of the floor, with no partitions or anything. So you'd
be sitting there, and right across from you would be Syl from
Tallahassee, or whatever. Shitting in-the-round: another nightmare
generator.... Man, I'd have to set my alarm for 3 am, or just wait
until my tour of duty was up, in two years. Under the circumstances, I
believe I could make it.
Sweet Maria.
How did we go from sectional sofas to this?? I'll see you guys tomorrow.
--
I was in a furniture store over the weekend, looking at big ol'
sectional couches. I have an obsession, that just flared up again, with
fixing up our family room. I mentioned the TV yesterday, but I'd like to
overhaul everything, not just the television situation. We have a living
room upstairs, with newish furniture, hardwood floors, fancy rugs, etc.
But downstairs is the room where we spend our evenings. It's where we
watch TV, snuggle 'neath the Scrote-watching blankets, and all that good
stuff. And it's far from aesthetically pleasing.