Foo - Good-Bye BikeForums...

Hello Best of CraigsList!

This stuff is hillarious, I've been laughing so hard I think I tore an abdominal muscle. Dayum does it hurt!

My favorite so far...

My Son Is A Moron... He Did Not Come From My Loins...

You do everything you can for your kids. God knows I've tried. But it seems like God enjoys a good joke, now and then.

I was raised in a strict household. My parents bore offspring from the early-50's to the mid-60's. I was around the middle of this brood. With nine mouths to feed, we did not have a lot of extras. We worked for simple things, like bicycles.

Nothing wrong with that. It's what we knew. And we were given a great foundation, on which we could create a life for ourselves. As I said, my parents were strict - which made me not wish to be such with my kids.

Ah, my kids... I'm in my forties, and the wife is a bit younger. I make a fine income, and try not to sweat anything. I get up... have coffee... look out at the ocean... read the paper... move onto my business.

I appreciate not having a house full of screaming kids in the morning (something that was impossible when I grew up). All I ask of my kids is to; a) be respectful of everyone, b) be honest c) get good grades, d) clean their rooms.

I do not ask for much, nor do I demand much. However... that is going to change tonight. Events that occurred this morning will bring about change like these kids have never known. The wife has kept me in the dark about some things as well.

It's my fault. I accept it. But I can reverse this downward trend - now. My generation (baby-boomers) has found that it is easier to go around a wall, than climb over over it - or knock it down. I'm as guilty as anyone.

My guilt turned into rage this morning. My son (and my wife) convinced me that he NEEDED a car (he's seventeen). I was not keen on a kid driving, that has trouble standing a surfboard, or walking down the stairs without tripping.

But I relented (again, why fight it). With some stipulations, we aquired a car for this child. The rules were put in place, and he proclaimed we were the greatest parents in the worls. Uh huh... It's 12:00pm, and he has yet to get out of bed. His mother has been instructed to tell my prodigy that he is GROUNDED. We have never done this, but we are today. And I mean GROUNDED in his room!

Not out by the pool. Not in the gameroom. His cluttered abode is where he better be when I get home tonight. And I'm going to be stopping for a drink, first. I deserve a drink after this morning. Let me tell you about my day.

I go out to my car in the driveway (I have a three-car garage - and "hers" is the only one that fits inside). My insanely over-priced piece of **** refuses to start today (3rd time in 2 months - the car is 6-monthss old). Okay... I call 'AAA'; it will 45-60 minutes. No time to wait. Okay... I'm going to take my kids' car.

I go in and retrieve the keys (everyone is till asleep @ 8am). I leave a note telling him to call me. His car is down the street at a friends house. Why? He claimed that our driveway was too crowded (and the other kids might scratch it).
Okay... I find his car... set off the alarm... ****! People, one word; LOJACK. Goddamn, I hate those alarms.

Anyways I get in the car, after noticing the REALLY nice rims & tires on it. Hmmm, how did he pay for those? WHEN, did he get those? I get in, and notice a new STEERING WHEEL... without the AIRBAG - that I demanded he have. Oh, this car is totally *****in' dude! It gets better...

Continued... (http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/lax/184295834.html)

Why Goodbye BF....That's hilarious!

I LOVED it!!! too funny, Id love to see if he is going to stick to all of this, thanks for sharing! I had a few good laughs!

.....If and when I have kids, IF they deserve a car ( good grades, etc) I'm keeping an eagles stare on thier car. when I was growing up, My room was mine to a point, but it was understood that random "inventory" checks would be performed by my parents. If I didn't like it, I was free to get my own place....

That was pretty funny.

So far so good, can you paste teh rest Stacey? my work has blocked craigslist :(

hehehe.

advice to the dad; if you're able to get everyone involved to adhere to those rules....write a how-to book, publish it, make BILLIONS!

hehehe.

advice to the dad; if you're able to get everyone involved to adhere to those rules....write a how-to book, publish it, make BILLIONS!


+1

So far so good, can you paste teh rest Stacey? my work has blocked craigslist :(
I start it up... A huge racket comes from the exhaust (not stock anymore!)... And the stereo starts screaming out profanities! The backseat is now occupied by a huge box with speakers in it... and fast-food trash... and 'ziz-zag' papers... and empty 'trojan' wrappers (a chip off the 'ole block).

To say the least I am pissed. I proceed to drive this rattling, screaming (I tear the faceplate off - finally), piece of doo-doo down the road. I swear, I think I awakened everyone in the neighborhood. I head out onto PCH, and drive less than a mile... when MB's finest pulls me over...

WTF? I know I wasn't speeding. The officer comes up to the car, and asks for my license and insurance card... I hand over the license, and tell him I'm not sure where the insurance card is - 'it's my son's car'... "look in the glovebox" (he is - actually - smiling now)...

I open the glovebox... and a small BONG falls out... I look at him... he looks at me... This is not happening! Oh, but it is. The first thing I say is 'it's not mine!'... "um, sir, could you step out of the car, please"...

I get out, and we step onto the sidewalk. He tells me he stopped me for having an illegal exhaust (no **** - it sounds like two-dozen weedwhackers coming down the street). He also informs me that there are plenty more violations on this car... And I start laughing... He asks why am I laughing... And I tell him how my day is going.

"What about the water-pipe?" Indeed! I inform him that this is all a surprise to me, but I would like him to write up everything that is illegal about the vehicle. He looks at me like I'm crazy. But I want my kid to learn a lesson.

And the officer obliges me. He, even, finds some weed in the trunk... 17 tickets later, we are finished... almost... I ask him if I can keep all of the drug paraphenalia? "Why?" I want my kid to destroy it. I want this kid to know his "****-off" days are over.

The officer agrees. I could see he was wishing he could be there tonight, for the "lesson". He was pretty decent about the whole thing. This guy took, almost, a half-hour to go through all of this paperwork - and search. I thank him, and head out... He tells me if I get stopped again today, that I should show all the citations to the other officer - and I should not have any problems...

Problems?!! We have problems. I have lost control of my family. My wife is a co-conspirator. She has just been told that I want a listing of all of our household bills & accounts. 'Yes, dear - we are going to perform an audit'. She is protesting, but I do not care. This is war.

I know my family loves me, but they have played me for a fool. I may be a fool, but I am not dumb. She does not know that I just found out my son is in Summer school, because of bad grades. She doesn't know that DMV has provided me with her, and his, records; apparently they have a problem with obeying traffic laws.

It's not going to be easy, but something must be done. I swear, I feel like I have become my father... I want the best for my family, and feel something radical must happen. I can only hope they - truly - understand it is for our own good.




Some things that will be addressed tonight;

1) Son's vehicle is gone; oil up that chain on your bicycle.
2) All three kids will empty out the garage; sell it/ donate it/ whatever.
3) Mom will have a household budget.
4) Chores - that's right; everyone will have assigned chores.
5) Chores will be done, before anything else.
6) Homework will be done daily, before dinner. * Or, immediately after sports events, but always prior to 10pm.
7) Son's tickets will be paid with his allowance.
8) Son is grounded for the rest of the summer.
9) Son will study from 8am until 4pm - daily, durint the rest of summer vacation.
10) Videogames are banned from 10pm until 6pm - daily.
11) Everyone will be up by 8am - daily.
12) The youngest child is on a diet - now.
13) Mother will inform father of ALL infractions.
14) Dad will be home by 6pm - daily.
15) Everyone will eat dinner, together.
16) Mom will cook dinner - and it better not come out of the microwave.
17) The maid is being given four weeks notice. * That is going to be fun - I may not see a sexual interlude for awhile.
18) Dad is getting a new car, and parking it in his garage.
19) Son may get a USED car, when his grades are A's & B's, for two - consecutive - semesters.
20) Mom and son are to attend driving school.
21) Son will explain drug usage - completely, or face rehab & boarding school.
22) Mom will be weaned off of her "medications"; NOW.
23) Children will make their own lunches, for school; no more money for ****ty school food.
24) NO soda. Maybe, when we dine out. Maybe, on the weekends.
25) NO MySpace accounts, or any other assinine accounts - a computer geek will check all of their computers - monthly (they need fear put into their lives).
26) Dad will attend all school functions.
27) Everyone will be present for all birthdays.
28) Children will wear clothes that Dad approves of.
29) Mom will dress daughter like a little girl; not a 'hoochie-mama'. * and - definitely - no "juicy" pants on her bottom!
30) Daughter will not have any underwear, except for briefs.
31) Sons will not be told to pull up their pants, or face having said pants donated.
32) NO 'Rap' music, within Dad's hearing range.
33) NO tattoos, until you are out of my house.
34) NO piercings (except for daughter's ears), until you are out of my house.
35) NO dyeing of hair, until you are out of my house.




Did I miss something?



I'm continuing to add to the list...



Tell me if I missed something...



Tell me if I'm wrong...



I've seen those "wife-swap" & "nanny" shows...



I hate to think that is my life...



Wish me luck...



I may be sleeping on the patio tonight...

Awesome.

Unrealistic, but awesome none the less.

If he accomplishes half that list and makes it stick, it will be a complete success story.

BY the list the father needs to be the one on the medication. Some of those rules are outright dumb.

:roflmao:
:roflmao:
:roflmao:
:roflmao:
:roflmao:

BY the list the father needs to be the one on the medication. Some of those rules are outright dumb.
Yeah. I smell REALITY SHOW!!!!

Some of them are nice, and would probably be good measures to take, but some of them are a bit over the top. Like number 16, the "*****, get your *** back in the kitchen and make me a sammich!" clause, and some of the "let's be so strict on this kid that he rebels even harder next time" rules. At least he put some rules and restrictions on himself.

Someone has lost touch with reality. Someone will be in Family Court real soon!

heh, that's pretty amusing stuff right there! :)

The pipe falling out of the glove box was priceless.

Why Goodbye BF....That's hilarious!
Touche. :D

I start it up...

<snip>

I may be sleeping on the patio tonight...

Thanks Jeff, I had gone for a ride.

Someone has lost touch with reality. Someone will be in Family Court real soon!

With attitudes like this, is it any wonder that there's alot of spoilt kids out there that are incredibly rude to their parents? :rolleyes:

Thanks Jeff, I had gone for a ride.
You're welcome. Did you have a nice ride?

You're welcome. Did you have a nice ride?
Wonderful, thank you. :)

I dropped the truck off for inspection then peddled my ass around town for about 10 miles.

ha! Sounds so Manhattan Beach (my hood)....poor b@stard!

It's a dirty job to be parent - but somebody's gotta do it.

:roflmao:

Oh damn. My man totally lost control of the house. That's f'ed up.

Sounds like he's the only earner in that household.
Rather than listing commandments, maybe he ought to just draw the purse strings.

And for all those who think he was being sexist for wanting his wife to cook, well if she doesn't have a job outside the house, then her job IS the house.

Thank you much! I just wasted my whole morning :D\

I found this one hilarious as well:

DO NOT EAT PRINGLES FAT FREE POTATO CHIPS. THEY WILL GREASE YOUR ASS.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/lax/182862349.html

so the dad has a midlife crisis and epiphany that he's lost touch with his family? The guy needs professional help. He "instructs" his wife to ground his son? What, he's too busy to do it himself? Puhlease. The Father is the moron; his son is just another punk kid with more money than he knows what to do with....

You're welcome. A convert! :beer:

I like this one too.

I give bikers a bad name
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/aaa/213715274.html


To all the drivers who get so pissed off at all the cyclists on the road -
Leave them alone. Almost all of them are obeying the rules, trying to stay out of your way, trying to enjoy a nice ride, trying to get some excercise, just not using gas to get to work, school, grocery whatever. They're really not in your way. They're only stopping you from getting to the next red light two seconds earlier.

I'm the one you hate. And I like it.

I rarely stop at stop signs. I'll slow down and make sure the coast is CLEAR. I mean NO-ONE coming. I'm not out to cause an accident. But I'll break the law and ride on through. I like it.

I do stop for red lights - when there is traffic. But I will go if the way is clear before the light turns green. About 90% of the time I will ride through a red light. I like it.

When cars are stopped at a light I'll ride past you all, between lanes and get in front of the first car. It's illegal but I'm never going to get ticketed and I like it.

Excepting motorways, I ride on whatever the **** road I want - bike lanes or no. If the right side of a lane is trashed (branches, trash, potholes) then I'll ride down the middle of the lane. I'm not moving over when you're behind me either. Hell, if you're going too slow, I'll even move into the left lane and pass you. I like it.

Drivers who yell "the rules" out their windows are hilarious. Faces all crimson with anger. Spittle flying. None of these asshats are people I have endangered. There just idiots who get angry when I "get away" with the **** I pull. It's really funny. You've got that special type of anger that driving creates. It makes me feel good that I'm on a bike. So go ahead - YELL! I like it.

Very rarely I'll come across a driver who will express his anger at my rule breaking by driving dangerously around me and pulling stupid **** to scare me. I'm not scared. It does annoy me and I will catch up with you and I will come out on top. So go ahead - **** with me on the road. My adrenaline is already high, the anger feels good, bring it on. I like it.

I have NEVER hit, or been hit by, a moving automobile (I did run into a parked car when I hit some ice once). I have NEVER caused any driver to slam on their brakes. Yes, I would know if I did. I'm very aware of EVERY car around me (hence, never been hit). These are good stats for the amount of cycling I have done. It make me confident, but not over-confident. The score board stays clear. I like it.

I will NOT slow you down. If I'm riding in town, then I am going as fast as you, faster than you or cruising to a red light. If I have slipped up between stopped cars to get in front of you at a red light (and I wait for the green) I will accelerate through the intersection a lot faster than you no matter what kind of assmobile you have ('cept motorbikes). And then I'll even stay on the right so that you can easily pass me! I know I've just been a **** and passed you all at the red, so if you've got enough road to catch up, I'll give you the room to pass! When you do catch up and pass me without having to change lane I'm happy. I like it.

See I'm not really evil. I enjoy all the dip****s who think that they are law enforcement. I'll do my best to not impede you on your urgent mission to get to whereeverthe****. I will absolutely avoid causing an accident or scaring the **** out of you. But I will always choose to obey the traffic rules when it feels right. I use my brain. I don't care whether you like it or not. It works for me. I like it.

Out of town - this is a different scene. It's easy to stay on the right. I never ride two abreast. If it's a narrow road, I'll get way over so you can safely pass. If it's a narrow road and you're waiting to pass (out of town, this actually happens a lot) and it looks like it could be a while, I'll even get off the road and stop! I don't care, I'm only racing myself. But WTF is going on? Once you get out of town, something like 99.999% of drivers are REALLY NICE! They pass with LOTS of room. They WAIT to pass, often fairly far behind. NO-ONE honks. NO-ONE yells. They just don't seem as angry as city drivers. I like riding in the country.

So, angry drivers, don't hate all cyclists, hate me. I won't actually cause you any trouble but if you're the easily angered type then I'll gladly annoy the **** out of you with the way I ride. Hate me - I like it.

I think this guy hans out in A&S!:p
You're welcome. A convert! :beer:

I like this one too.

I give bikers a bad name
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/aaa/213715274.html


To all the drivers who get so pissed off at all the cyclists on the road -
Leave them alone. Almost all of them are obeying the rules, trying to stay out of your way, trying to enjoy a nice ride, trying to get some excercise, just not using gas to get to work, school, grocery whatever. They're really not in your way. They're only stopping you from getting to the next red light two seconds earlier.

I'm the one you hate. And I like it.

I rarely stop at stop signs. I'll slow down and make sure the coast is CLEAR. I mean NO-ONE coming. I'm not out to cause an accident. But I'll break the law and ride on through. I like it.

I do stop for red lights - when there is traffic. But I will go if the way is clear before the light turns green. About 90% of the time I will ride through a red light. I like it.

When cars are stopped at a light I'll ride past you all, between lanes and get in front of the first car. It's illegal but I'm never going to get ticketed and I like it.

Excepting motorways, I ride on whatever the **** road I want - bike lanes or no. If the right side of a lane is trashed (branches, trash, potholes) then I'll ride down the middle of the lane. I'm not moving over when you're behind me either. Hell, if you're going too slow, I'll even move into the left lane and pass you. I like it.

Drivers who yell "the rules" out their windows are hilarious. Faces all crimson with anger. Spittle flying. None of these asshats are people I have endangered. There just idiots who get angry when I "get away" with the **** I pull. It's really funny. You've got that special type of anger that driving creates. It makes me feel good that I'm on a bike. So go ahead - YELL! I like it.

Very rarely I'll come across a driver who will express his anger at my rule breaking by driving dangerously around me and pulling stupid **** to scare me. I'm not scared. It does annoy me and I will catch up with you and I will come out on top. So go ahead - **** with me on the road. My adrenaline is already high, the anger feels good, bring it on. I like it.

I have NEVER hit, or been hit by, a moving automobile (I did run into a parked car when I hit some ice once). I have NEVER caused any driver to slam on their brakes. Yes, I would know if I did. I'm very aware of EVERY car around me (hence, never been hit). These are good stats for the amount of cycling I have done. It make me confident, but not over-confident. The score board stays clear. I like it.

I will NOT slow you down. If I'm riding in town, then I am going as fast as you, faster than you or cruising to a red light. If I have slipped up between stopped cars to get in front of you at a red light (and I wait for the green) I will accelerate through the intersection a lot faster than you no matter what kind of assmobile you have ('cept motorbikes). And then I'll even stay on the right so that you can easily pass me! I know I've just been a **** and passed you all at the red, so if you've got enough road to catch up, I'll give you the room to pass! When you do catch up and pass me without having to change lane I'm happy. I like it.

See I'm not really evil. I enjoy all the dip****s who think that they are law enforcement. I'll do my best to not impede you on your urgent mission to get to whereeverthe****. I will absolutely avoid causing an accident or scaring the **** out of you. But I will always choose to obey the traffic rules when it feels right. I use my brain. I don't care whether you like it or not. It works for me. I like it.

Out of town - this is a different scene. It's easy to stay on the right. I never ride two abreast. If it's a narrow road, I'll get way over so you can safely pass. If it's a narrow road and you're waiting to pass (out of town, this actually happens a lot) and it looks like it could be a while, I'll even get off the road and stop! I don't care, I'm only racing myself. But WTF is going on? Once you get out of town, something like 99.999% of drivers are REALLY NICE! They pass with LOTS of room. They WAIT to pass, often fairly far behind. NO-ONE honks. NO-ONE yells. They just don't seem as angry as city drivers. I like riding in the country.

So, angry drivers, don't hate all cyclists, hate me. I won't actually cause you any trouble but if you're the easily angered type then I'll gladly annoy the **** out of you with the way I ride. Hate me - I like it.

Alluring, difficult woman seeks stable and assertive man

I am in search of a patient, assertive, and attractive man to aid me in my quest for self improvement. These qualities are non-negotiable and the explanation is as follows...

['Dipper's edit: she isn't out of the first sentence, and she is already unwilling to negotiate.:lol: But wait, it gets better. Let's look at her list of personal traits you "must" accept. (How "assertive" should this guy be anyway? Okay, let's continue...]


Some things you should know (edited):

*I have a major 'Daddy' complex.

*I will never trust you.

*I have no communication skills.

*I have an addictive personality. I was a crack addict...wouldn't surprise me if I relapsed again.

*I am a cold and unemotional bich.

*I have some sexual preferences that some people will not be able to handle. I want sex several times a day. I like to be hit, choked, etc...please be comfotable with such abuse.

*I am incredibly indicisive.

*I throw punches when I feel cornered. I kickbox, so they are good punches.

With that out of the way, I DO have some redeeming qualities:

*I am beautiful, intelligent, educated, and articulate.

*I can cook a mean steak.

*I am artistically gifted.

*I have a stable and lucrative career.

*I make friends with everyone, including homeless people and vicious dogs.

As mentioned, I am extremely charismatic and you will be unable to resist my charms.

http://www.supanet.com/media/00/08/61/SnowWhite_210.jpg


Excerpts taken from The Best Of Craigslist. Overshare anyone?

Wow! She sounds like quite the catch.

Link?:D
Alluring, difficult woman seeks stable and assertive man

I am in search of a patient, assertive, and attractive man to aid me in my quest for self improvement. These qualities are non-negtiable and the explanation is as follows...

['Dipper's edit: she isn't out of the first sentence, and she is already unwilling to negotiate.:lol: But wait, it gets better. Let's look at her list of personal traits you "must" accept. (How "assertive" should this guy be anyway? Okay, let's continue...]


Some things you should know (edited):

*I have a major 'Daddy' complex.

*I will never trust you.

*I have no communication skills.

*I have an addictive personality. I was a crack addict...wouldn't surprise me if I relapsed again.

*I am a cold and unemotional bich.

*I have some sexual preferences that some people will not be able to handle. I want sex several times a day. I like to be hit, choked, etc...please be comfotable with such abuse.

*I am incredibly indicisive.

*I throw punches when I feel cornered. I kickbox, so they are good punches.

With that out of the way, I DO have some redeeming qualities:

*I am beautiful, intelligent, educated, and articulate.

*I can cook a mean steak.

*I am artistically gifted.

*I have a stable and lucrative career.

*I make friends with everyone, including homeless people and vicious dogs.

As mentioned, I am extremely charismatic and you will be unable to resist my charms.

http://www.supanet.com/media/00/08/61/SnowWhite_210.jpg


Excerpts taken from The Best Of Craigslist. Overshare anyone?

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/335213414.html

Wait, the mother doesn't work and they have a maid? Unless this 'man' is bringing home some major bacon, he needs to get his b*tch in line. All stay at home mothers (and fathers) I know keep immaculate homes and cook great meals every day regardless of their household income. Since they live on the PCH, I'm assuming he brings home some decent change, but I guess money doesn't change a family. If this guy was a shoe salesman, this would be one big white trash family.

oh crumb! I'm lost in bestofcraigslistforever....someone, anyone, please! get me out of here!

oh crumb! I'm lost in bestofcraigslistforever....someone, anyone, please! get me out of here!


The only way to leave is to post something true about yourself in the local 'list.

there is no Craigs List-Hicktown. too bad.

there is no Craigs List-Hicktown. too bad.


Pity. I would pay to read about your romatic misadventures.:)

ORLY? you know about those?

ORLY? you know about those?


Nope.




That's why I would pay to read about 'em, darlin'. ;)

ack! I knew you were going to say that!

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/333345372.html

Crying right now, something about potty humor late at night is making me tear up while laughing.



All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:

0.Occupied

1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.

2.Poo on seat.

3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.

4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.

Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful ****ter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.

I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter about the ****ty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.


Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.

-

Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.

It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.

"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"

Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.

-

Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.

After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.

As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.

I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.

The guy is a definite case of too much too late. Sort of like being on a bike and not watching where you are going and then at the last moment decide it is time for drastic measures - which generally results in a even more drastic wipeout.

I bet he is some middle management dweeb in a large company... Going to show everyone who is boss - well, he is probably going to find out it isn't him.

:roflmao:
:roflmao:
:roflmao:

My personal favorite------------------------


Hey Crackhead
Date: 2004-03-27, 3:36PM PST



Yes, you. You sick ****er. On Wednesday morning I emerged from my girlfriend's building by U.N. Plaza to find that you had sawed the tops off both the sparkplugs on my motorcycle. At the time, I had no idea why anyone would do that. Other than the sparkplugs, the bike was untouched. Some kind of bizarre vandalism? A fraternity prank gone awry? I had no idea. All I knew is that I looked like a huge ******bag riding the Muni to work in a padded motorcycle jacket and helmet.

Because the bike was immobilized I got a $35 street sweeping ticket that night. Thursday I had it towed to the shop ($45) where they replaced the sparkplugs and the boots ($50 including labor). They explained to me that "people" - I use the term loosely here - like you break off the tops of spark plugs and use the porcelain tubes to smoke crack. As an engineer and former MacGyver fan, in a way I think this is kind of cool. But then I remember that I just paid $100 for YOUR crackpipes, and I get angry again.

Crackhead, it was really good to have my bike back though. I rode home from the shop with a couple of spare sparkplugs and a smile on my face. I figured the next time I parked at my girlfriend's place overnight I would have to buy some crackpipes and tape them to my bike as a peace offering. Overall, I wasn't that upset. Despite having to ride the bus for three days and dropping a hundred bones at the shop, I had gained some fascinating knowledge, a new set of sparkplugs, and a pretty funny anecdote about how ****ed up you are, and how our paths once crossed briefly in the night.

But you couldn't just let sleeping dogs lie, could you Crackhead. You couldn't just stay in on Friday, watch Letterman through the window of a home electronics store and then call it a night. You couldn't rest on your laurels. Two porcelain sparkplug crackpipes just wasn't enough for you, was it Crackhead? You just had to come back for more.

This morning, a scant fifteen hours after I rode it out of the shop, I found my motorcycle violated once again. This time you only took the right one - maybe you were having an off night. At least this time I had a spare sparkplug and the tools to fix it - or so I thought - having ordered a 73-piece toolset from SEARS.com last week. But no, the sparkplug socket in my new toolset was for American sparkplugs. So I had to go down to the neighborhood Ace hardware. They had an 18mm socket that would fit over my sparkplug, but it was for a 1/2" drive ratchet. My toolkit only has 1/4" and 3/8" ratchets. So I had to buy a 1/2" ratchet along with the socket. Even though the clerk took pity on me and gave me the senior citizen discount (I'm 25) it still cost me $22 all told. Now, you might say that I should have just gotten a 3/8"-to-1/2" drive adaptor instead of springing for the whole ratchet. And to that I say "Shut the hell up, Crackhead, I'm not finished. And besides, I was eventually going to buy a 1/2" ratchet anyway so it's probably not worth it to take it back now."

OK, now I'm rambling. But the point is, Crackhead, that you have done me wrong. Now, I get that you love crack. That is totally understandable. I've heard it is really fun, at first, and quite addictive. What I don't understand is,

YOU ARE A CRACKHEAD. WHY DON'T YOU OWN A CRACKPIPE?

I am an engineer. Do you ever see me shaking down bums in the Loin for a calculator and sliderule? No, you don't. Because engineering is the main thing I do, I went and bought myself a calculator. The main thing you do is crack. How do you get by without a crackpipe? The other crackheads must clown on you non-stop. I mean, the ****ing saw you used to saw off my sparkplugs is probably worth five or ten bucks. Why not sell or trade it for a crackpipe? You really haven't put much thought into this, have you?

Please, Crackhead, please don't tell me you sold your crackpipe to buy crack. Even a stupid crackhead such as yourself couldn't possibly be that stupid.

I've decided that taping crackpipes to my motorcycle would be tantamount to appeasement. You have crossed a line, Crackhead - specifically California Street. You have come onto my own street and you have desecrated that which I hold dear. You have stolen from me, and you have caused me to spend the last half hour writing this post instead of engineering ****, and it is concievable, if not likely, that my boss could find out about this and fire me. I am hella pissed at you dude.

Here are my options as I see them:

1. Write a note saying that I have coated both of my sparkplugs in rat poison and tape it to my bike at night. You can thank Tim for that one, it was his idea.

2. Don't write a note, but just coat both sparkplugs in rat poison. This is probably closer to a punishment that would fit your despicable crime. I'm sure this is super illegal and ****, but it's not like anyone is going to miss you, Crackhead. Don't fool yourself.

3. Wait in an alley near my bike armed with my new stainless steel mirror-finish Ace Professional brand 1/2" drive socket wrench, my 18mm sparkplug socket, and my searing rage. It's pretty heavy and well balanced. I am not a large man, but I am angry.

In conclusion, Crackhead, why don't you just do both of us a favor and buy yourself a crackpipe? It will both enhance your crack smoking experience and save me a lot of time and felony assault charges. Think about it.

Sincerely,
Matt

*** If you are not the Crackhead that took my sparkplugs, please disregard this posting ***

Excellent one Kris! :beer:

Battle Asses (http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/aus/323013997.html)

ROFLCOPTER potty talk.

Battle Asses (http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/aus/323013997.html)

ROFLCOPTER potty talk.Holy Mother of God, I just read that in the library at school and lost my mind. I'm worried everyone thinks I'm crazy now.

Best I've read!

I dropped the truck off for inspection then peddled my ass around town for about 10 miles.

:eek: A recent career change? ;)