July 4th, 2007 by erisian

not that kind of body check……..

THIS kind of body check…..

So I was at work the other day and I realized that I needed my brain to spout off ideas and magically put them on film. I needed to do this badly.

Having drank the urine from the community coffee robot for a few hours during the morning, I had a strong need to make pee-pee myself.. Being that I am NOT a robot, nobody was rushing up and putting their coffee mugs under my penis. I had to take it upon myself to STAND UP AND WALK. Yes, you read it here people, cubicle farmers do indeed have to occasionally walk from place to place. Pulling myself from my bean bag chair (I had recently replaced my rolling office chair and inserted a bean bag on top of two tipped over filing cabinets as a substitute) and sauntered o’er to the mens room.

The heavy wooden door taunted me as I pushed it open. My potty dance was becoming more of a potty epileptic fit. The brightness of the overhead lighting raped my eyeballs and I was temporarily blinded by florescent evilness. This was nothing new as the whole office was florescent, but in the bathroom, things gleam and reflect light, making stabbing visual movements towards one’s retinas.

Cue toilet user number two, John.

The mens room does NOT have many attributes in its favor. Unlike stories told of the womens restroom which I hear has fresh flowers and cubby holes in it, all we have is piss slick floors and 6 inches between us and the shoulder of the man next door. Bathroom etiquette advises that you never ever make eye contact, talk to anyone, look at someones unit, or touch. Never ever ever ever is touching allowed. (third ever courtesy of summit summit)

I forgot all about pissing. As i walked into the restroom, my eyes adjusted to the stark contrast of lighting, and I found myself with the strong desire to touch. Standing at urinal num’er two was my co-worker, John. Urinal number one was open and available for me to use………

I wanted to body check him into the wall, hard and fast, while he peed. The image in my head was EPIC, like in a terrible “crappy-good” movie.

s l o w m o t i o n.

I throw off my gloves and toss my stick to the ice. Power skate up to John…… AND SLAM HIM INTO THE WALL! A continued slow motion scene shows the arc of his piss as it flies through the air, landing o’er the floor. It completely misses the urinal, soaking his prostate body instead.

I would stand there with my fist in the air screaming like a Viking winning a battle!

thats all.. just something i was thinking about.

oh yeah, and i wonder how many mason jars i could have full at this point if i had been saving all of my scabs since i was a kid.. but that is gross so forget i wrote it.