6:32 p.m. - 2002-05-06
I don’t get this shit! Why the fuck do perverted people keep finding my fucking young teen diary? I mean, it makes me turn pink and red; my head gets wet with furry to the point that my nipples become erect with outrage! All these young virgin teens have access to the net, and just because some asshole of an ass is too much of a pussy to pay for a magazine in a porn shop and wants free porn, we have to take it in the ass through sick and outrageous quality porn sites! What a bunch of huge dicks! I think those people should be bound and gagged and have to suffer through watching what happens when preggo pregnant lactating mothers find out that their under-aged sons and daughters are exposed to this filthy filth!
I’m sure that would be barely legal though, and the ACLU would come to the rescue, and come hard.
They are so anal about that goo. They are just lubricating our decent into a sexual pleasure based life form that only cares about getting their orgasms. Period.
Enough about that fucking animals tuff.
Speaking of toilet stories, one of the duties I am charged with at work is finding products for bathroom remodels. One of the products in a bathroom is the good ol’ toilet. The place where you find toilet information is in toilet catalogues.
I want to write for a toilet catalogue. The descriptions of the toilets are the best thing I have ever seen. Did you know that Toto makes a toilet with enough flushing power to down an item the size of a regulation softball? Anyone out there who needs that kind of flushing power has bigger problems than choosing fixtures for their bathroom remodel. I mean, I’m not a doctor or anything, but I do defecate regularly.
Also I found a high-end bathroom fixture store in Oakland that boasts an all stainless steel toilet. It wonders if you are daring enough to have it installed in your home. It also allows that it is the same model used in penitentiaries.
I’m saving up. I’ve always wanted to pee and poo like a convict.
Our other top story tonight is that I need a haircut. I look fine one day, then the next I’m all David Hasselhoff’d up like a mug. That’s everything…wait, this just in. My boss is back and it has been confirmed by myself that the complexity of this development furthers my earlier claim that working is for saps. More on this forever until I retire or Peth succeeds in getting me fired and killing me.