Saturday 19 September 2009

crabbydad - Some Pig(s)...

 

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Some Pig(s)...

Well, I've tried to defend and advocate for as long as I could but after this morning, I've realized I must relent and admit that, indeed, men are fucking pigs. I throw up the fucking white flag. You were right, women, we're disgusting. It only took three dudes in the locker room, this morning, to finally convince me.

Dude #1: Johnny Ballsack. Not a new character to the locker room, mind you. Johnny struts around naked as a fucking jaybird, airin' out his mandibles for all to see. It's like he's a retiring hacky-sack salesman who's desperately trying to unload the last of his wares. Yes, Johnny, I see your nuts... they're super. And thanks for putting one leg up on the bench while you towel off your hair so I can see them dangle there, weighted down like a Hobbit's weathered coin pouch filled with magical elfen nuggets.

Dude #2: Danny Diarrhea. Every fucking day the dude walks into the locker room, drops his back on a bench, enters a stall, shuts the door and then blasts a fucking shitstorm into the defenseless bowl that sounds like Ernest Borgnine explopding in a sensory deprivation tank. I mean, what the fuck does this guy's diet consist of, Beanie Weenie casserole, poured over raw scrapple, smothered in nitro-glycerin gravy... stuffed inside a polska kielbasa? Seriously, his asshole must look like fucking Chernobyl. Ring of Fire?! This dude's probably got a goddamn Necklace of Fire.

Dude #3: Clippy McToenails. Okay, picture a portly 70-ish Pakistani man in a maroon tracksuit, sitting in the middle of the lockerroom clipping his motherfucking toenails... with no regard for hither and/or thither they might be landing. And the dude must have like 40 toes 'cuz he was a-clippin' when I got in the shower and was still a-clippin' after I was fully dressed and leaving the locker room. "Tink... tink... tink...." 70 year old toenail shards shooting all over the goddamn place like a fucking cartilaginous meteor shower. Fucking disgusting.

And who knows what the shit these fuckers are doing in the goddamn pool. Where's my Speedo haz-mat suit when I need it?


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