I hate people who poop at work, because they funk up the john for all the rest of us innocent souls who simply cannot hold our bladders until we can go home to the sanctity of our clean bathrooms.
I just saw one of the executives walking (well, more like pinching his cheeks together and shuffling his feet than walking) past my office on the way to the men’s room with the newspaper under his arm. Not the newspaper I produce, mind you (mine is best left in a litterbox), but the WaPo. It’s like a fucking billboard advertisement when someone waddles past with a pending load in his shorts and a four-inch-thick newspaper in tow.
I pity that toilet.
On iTunes: New Found Glory, “Come Back Bon Jovi”