Arctic Chill

The restroom at work today was like taking a trek across the frozen Tundra. The air conditioner was set to meatlocker cold. That combined with the management removing the warm water from the tap makes for a very chilly pee break.

On the floor I work at there are two bathrooms; a large one near the elevator, and a second one further away. I like to mix it up when I use the john. I don't like people to know my business when I'm doing my business. First, I hit the main head today (Not the one with the freezing air conditioner), and one of my co-workers, whom I don't see that often anywhere in the building was in the main bathroom. And out of the three urinals he could have chosen to use, which did he use? The middle one! He broke the cardinal rule of even spacing at the urinal. Whenever possible, you start at the end of the line to leave a buffer zone. What kind of freak is he?

I'll tell you what kind of freak he is. When I got to the sink to wash my hands, I noticed he used a paper towel to touch the soap pump so he didn't have to touch it. That's questionable. If there were any germs on the soap pump, you'd quickly wash them away with the soap! And our faucets are automatic, so he didn't have to touch the faucet handels. Can we say Howard Hughes paranoid?

Royal Flush

At my work we have automatic flushing toilets. The sensors are tripped when someone stands up or moves away from the pot. There are also manual buttons to flush the toilet in case the sensors don't work. A real class act all the way.

But what's not so classy is when the automatic flush doesn't work, and some inconsiderate employee couldn't be bothered to flush their own crap. It's amazing how some people could be in too much of a hurry or be too absent minded to not realize their turd, along with toilet paper and sanitary seat cover are now fermenting in the bowl and is on display for everyone else to see. But that was the case today. I found a nice messy turd waiting for me when I stepped into the stall to do my morning constitutional.

So, what's wrong with you people? Are you lazy? Or is it that you're absent minded? I could understand if you are blind and deaf and can't see that your turd is still sitting in the bowl, or couldn't hear that it didn't get flushed away. Are you Helen Keller? That's it, you're Helen Keller aren't you? You learned how to sign water, then you popped a squat in the men's room before I came in.

And speaking of Helen Keller, do you remember this little schoolyard potty humor gem?
Q: How did Helen Keller's parents punish her?
A: They stuck a plunger in the toilet.
Think about it...Yeah. She's blind and she'll sit right down on the handle. That'll teach her.

Back to my story. So I had to flush someone else's poop down the toilet. And it wasn't like the button wasn't working. It worked. In fact, it took two flushes to clear the bowl because of heavy skid marks.

Moral of the story, flush your own turd, otherwise your coworker will write about it on the Internet.

Flushed with Excitement

As a brief introduction about myself and this blog, I am the foremost expert in the area of pooping and peeing I know. For more than 30 years I have been doing my doodie, going No. 1 and No. 2, pinching loafs and seeing men about horses -- although not every day mind you.

From ages 25 to 30 I did not have a bowel movement. I call this my red period. No, it wasn't an ancient Yogi technique to slow down the metabolism. I have self-diagnosed Irritable Bowel Syndrome-C. IBS with constipation.

While that is a large part of who I am, this blog is intended to exhibit more than my sluggish bowels. It is to showcase the crazy, wacked-out thoughts that cross my mind while in the bathroom or deal with potty time in some way.

But why the name The Handicapped Stall you ask? Because we all know that the handicapped stall in any bathroom is the cadillac of commodes. As I've always said since I was young, "You could do a cartwheel in those things with plenty of room to spare."

Now, sit back and read it and wipe!