So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.
OMG ITS BACK
This shit needs to be published.
This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.
OH MY GOD STOP SAYING THAT DOCTORS SHOULDN’T SAY ‘IT’S A BOY’ OR ‘IT’S A GIRL’ AT BIRTH
IT’S NOT ABOUT ‘FORCING GENDER ROLES ON BABIES’ IT’S ABOUT ENSURING THAT THE CHILD GETS THE BEST CARE POSSIBLE BASED ON THEIR BIOLOGICAL SEX JFC
anyways what else would they say if they can’t announce boy or girl.
"it’s a thing!"
yeah that’s not gonna work.
"It sure is a baby alright"
I like how the original title for The Fault in Our Stars is all poetic and then the Norwegians just translated it to “fuck destiny” and I think that’s beautiful
Aw man, I thought for sure this had to be bullshit but nope
Why is it always Norway
Norway, a nation where you can put the word “fuck” on the cover of a young adult novel.
You didn’t get your Hogwarts letter? No problem! It probably just got lost in the mail, or the owl that was supposed to deliver it got distracted, happens all the time. We apologize for any inconvenience and are happy to announce that you are accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
And here is your ticket!
imagine how pissed bucky got when he learned that steve jumped on a grenade in training camp
#Peggy tells the story with the utmost fondness#Bucky goes really still#and then sLOWLY turns to LOOK at Steve#who very pointedly is looking straight ahead#slowly starting to sweat as Bucky’s tries to glare a hole stRAIGHT THROUGH HIS THICK GODDAMN SKULL
#FridayFun time! Now here’s an innovation the world is ready for: The Cuddle Mattress, which introduces slats to the upper half of the bed, making it easier to slip your arm around your partner and still sleep in comfort. http://www.npr.org/blogs/alltechconsidered/2013/08/27/216091675/weekly-innovation-a-mattress-that-makes-it-easier-to-cuddle
this is it.
THIS IS FUCKING IT.
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS OF ARMS FALLING ASLEEP AND ACHING NECKS WE’VE FINALLY ARRIVED
THERE IS NO MORE WORRYING NOW THAT WE HAVE THESE FOAM STRIPS TO SHOVE OUR GRUBBY LITTLE ARMS INTO. JUST THINK OF THE OPPORTUNITIES. MAYBE SOME KID CAN FILL A PLASTIC BAG WITH LUBE, TUCK IT BETWEEN THIS SHIT, AND JUST GO TO FUCKING TOWN ON THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART MATTRESS
BUT THATS NOT ALL. DO YOUR FUCKING TOES GET COLD? SHOVE YOUR FEET IN THESE CUSHIONS AND SLEEP SOUNDLY KNOWING YOUR FOOT-NUBS ARE FREE OF THE COLD.
NEED TO KEEP YOUR PHONE CLOSER WHILE YOU SLEEP? TOSS IT IN THE CRACK. AFRAID TO LEAVE YOUR CHILD ALONE IN THEIR NURSERY? WEDGE IT INTO THE CRACK. JUST FUCKING DO IT. EVER TEMPTED TO SIP A BEVERAGE WITHOUT GETTING OUT OF BED? SHOVE A CUP AND THERE AND INSERT YOUR STRAW. PRESTO-CHANGO, MOTHERFUCKERS.
WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS. THIS BED CAN SOLVE ALL OF THE PROBLEMS IN THE WORLD. GO OUT THERE AND BUY YOUR CUDDLING, MASTURBATORY, CHILD-AND-DRINK-HOLDING, PHONE-STORING MATTRESS RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GODTumblr users should never make infomercials