For some reason, I just do not jive with dudes named Forrest.

To me, they always are a little hard to understand. They don’t communicate non-verbally all that well.

They don’t seem to share my sense of humor.

They seem awkward around me when I try to engage them with some small talk.

Sometimes, they’re downright insulting. I will see this Forrest guy in the hallway, say “Hi”, and I will get no response. I don’t know why. Did I insult them unintentionally? Did they think I said, “Hey, suck a fart out of my asshole!”, instead of “Hi.”? I just don’t get it.

Sometimes I think it may not be me. I think you become a douchebag after being named Forrest. Just my take.

I have never met a Forrest I have liked.

Guys are still writing on walls to express themselves.  I don’t get it.

You expect this practice on the walls of bar bathrooms…school bathrooms…but corporate bathrooms?

Seriously, what the fuck?

I like it when it becomes a conversation.  It’s like an online message board, but, get this, in the real world.

What a concept.

I should take a picture…but it’s kinda creepy to be taking pictures in the bathroom.   I’ll do my best to replicate the best bit of graffiti in the “faraway” bathroom here:

The first guy wrote:

Cerebus is gay

The second guy wrote:

I’m A Lesbo

The third guy wrote:

But I only like fucking assholes.

It’s probably worth mentioning that this correspondence is more carved into the wall rather than just written.  Think ball point pen – not felt tip.
I would like to say that I haven’t encountered graffiti on office bathroom walls before, but it’s been a recurring theme.

This is a beautiful bit of observational comedy.  I feel like Jerry Seinfeld’s head should pop up over the stall door and say, “Yeah, Rick.  What’s up with that?”  Or at least ask for a square of tissue – just one square.

In the office environment, it is key to watch traffic patterns prior to planning a bathroom visit of the seated fashion.  There is a bathroom 20 feet from me, but it is grand central station for defecation, my friends.  I tell you, it is World War Three in there.  If it would help, I’d call FEMA.

I prefer to walk the long walk to door number two (no pun intended).  Same floor plan same square footage but probably 20% of the traffic.  Every time I go in, it’s almost like coming back to your hotel room after being gone for the afternoon – magically clean.  I tell you it even feels warmer in there – as if a touch of heat is on for your comfort.  Things are clean.  Paper products are fully stocked.  There’s no water splashed all over the counter top.  And let’s just say the rest of the place is in much better shape.

I used to try to time myself to those non-peak periods (they are real) that Rick mentioned.  But, I have no need in this hideaway.

The only thing is that I have to walk by desks I don’t normally walk by and don’t have much reason to.  I fear they will notice the pattern before long and I will become the butt (again, no pun) of some office joke.  Fuck ‘em.  I don’t like them anyway.  They have “support” in their department title but all they give me is grief.  Well, I’ve got something for them.

And I can’t leave this topic without discussing the concept of “getting paid.”  This is not original, but comes courtesy of a friend of a friend.  When it’s his time to make magic at the office, he says, “I’m going to get paid.”  And I say, “what does that mean?” And he replies, “no one pays me to do it at home.”

Shit (again, no pun)!  I forgot the whole Ass Gasket angle.  I’ll be brief.  Can they make a universal paper seat cover that fits any (I defy you to find one) seat cover in the universe?  I don’t like to spend time customizing and building a bird’s nest.  And what’s the proper use for that cut out piece in the middle.  It has to go, but my frugal ways always find me recycling it to make the rest of it more “universal.”

Don’t get me started on those folks who don’t use protection.

I am talking about dudes smearing their boogers on bathroom walls.

You see, I go into the men’s room to relieve myself.  If I didn’t have to go in there, I wouldn’t.

There are already enough gross things in the bathroom like someone’s pee left in the urinal or the stench of somebody’s last meal.

I don’t need to see anything more to top these gross things.

But there they are, out on display like some art exhibit, are some dude’s boogers.

They pick their nose while on the toilet or at the urinal and wipe it on the wall.

Over time, the older ones change color and get crispy.

They taste a little different too.

Gotcha.

Sometimes corporate life is gross.  Why grown men hold on to certain idiotic school boy stuff is beyond my comprehension.

It’s going to be a place where I put all my observations and thoughts about working in an office.

For this first post, I want to write about something near and dear to my heart —

As I get older, my priorities are changing.  Sure, I want fun work environment…I guess.

Lately, I just want a quiet place to take a dump.

Now, I don’t like taking dumps at work but sometimes you just have to do it.

I have worked in a number of different office spaces in my career and I usually I can figure out in the first two weeks of working there where and when I can take a nice, long, stinky, private dump.

Some spaces are limited to one bathroom so that is more of a timing issue.  I have learned you do not want to go in there between 10 and 12  or 2 and 4.  These are prime bathroom visiting hours.  Early in the morning or towards the end of the work day, you can get a nice quick shit in before somebody comes walking in and pissing or washing their hands or making themselves look pretty.  (Yeah, HR guy-I am talking about you).

Thankfully, there are multiple crappers in this building.  Some are well hidden and off the beaten path.  The bad economy has increased the guy to toilet ratio in my building, which is nice.

I will walk for a good 5 minutes if I can take a nice private dump.

All I want is a quiet place to take a dump.

I think on my next job interview I’ll ask, “Hey, what’s the crapper situation in this place?”

It should be on the list of benefits.

I just spent $102 dollars for a pair of tickets to see Pavement in Central Park on Septemer 23, 2010.

That is 363 days from now.

Now I just need to apply and be accepted into the NYC teaching internship program.

I need to go visit Brooklyn with the girlfriend and see if it suits us.

We’d have to find her a teaching gig.

But, these things can be done -

in less than a year.

Or, I set fire to the tickets.

Crap.  Not intuitive.

Here’s my solution:  Every new post is backdated.  The top post will be the first post we put on the site…the last post will be the most recent post….

We will keep posting until we get to the Middle Ages!  We will then hang, draw, and quarter Al Gore for inventing the Internet!

Or we make some kind of homepage that has links to threads.  I don’t know.  BOO to user testing!

I showed a friend the blog and he didn’t know what to make of it.

I told him he had to read from the bottom up.  And then I realized, I shouldn’t have to tell him this.  Is this what the boss is talking about when he mentions  a “barrier to entry?”  I think if we give someone the URL, that should be all the information they need.  We need to come up with a way to present what we have in a format that makes more logical sense.

I guess if you were writing a journal, this format would be ok.  But, since we are bouncing back and forth, well…how do we make this into a cohesive format anyone can follow (sans instructions)?  How do we make this so readers (currrently I know of 3) don’t have to jump up and down the page to get the jokes and references?

For one thing, the comments sections doesn’t seem to work very well for what we are doing.  It is good for a reader when they want to make a comment on a specific post.  But, if you are responding to me, I think it works better in a fresh post.  I know, I know, I started the comment trend.  Blame Jonny West.

We’re supposed to be interweb professionals.

JW

Them Duke boys and their exploding arrows with biscuit chasers.  My, my, my.

And that John Whatshisname is dreamy (oh, you alluded to that already – I’m concerned that we both had the same thought since I watched the video and went that direction before reading your line) – but, a’hem…. anyway, easy on the eye makeup, John – makes you look cheap.

Anyway, Catherine Bach is the dreamy one.  Thank you for the shorts and thank heavens for cyclical fashion trends.

Take that, Cletus.  Gyu Gyu Gyu!