it's hard to rely on my good intentions
when my head's full of things that i can't mention
seems i usually get things right
but i can't understand what i did last night
There are certain subjects that are full proof for finding a goldmine of jokes; topics where you could spend hours having the best of times with just about anyone; points of interest that will actually make time fly.
I’m talking about poop and how us, guys, love talking about it. We use it in our everyday speech with,
“Man look at this shit!” or “Man, I just about shatted myself” or “The Civil War was just a complete shit storm”.
Then there was that one time when you were 7 and you were at Disneyworld with your family. You had these awful stomach cramps from eating a pound of cheese curds that your conniving Father bought back at the hotel. You can only walk in agony for so long until you finally persuaded the family to stop everything because you had to roll a heavy deuce.
Twenty minutes later you run out of that shitter with all the joy a seven year old can have because you just survived “The Perfect Storm” (Thanks Hog for reminding me of that shit-tastic movie btw).
There’s always the references to ‘making bears’ or having to take a load off.
Then there’s my personal favorite: The Thunderbucket.
Last night there was a job at work that involved the hardcore cleaners—The same cleaners that clean up homicides, murders, anything and everything.
So it’s 11pm and I have the escort the guy in and I show him the “site” where he should go about his business (zing). In walks in the custodian (a real talkative guy) and we just shoot the shit (zing) for a good half hour in the bathroom while the guy is cleaning it as if it just hit the fan (zing).
Then walks in another custodian (another talkative guy)--basically you could be talking to someone anywhere in the building and these guys will find you like flies on shit (zing).
Now here we are, three grown men hanging out in the restroom watching another guy scooping poop (zing). I tell ya what, it was like a bottomless pit of jokes:
“Hey, did the guy have any corn?”
“Do ya then send that stuff to your ex?
“I usually just stop at one burrito but good lord”
“I bet the dude won the lottery!”
“I bet his wife is preggers!”
“Hey, I gotta poop. Mind if I use the stall next to you and keep you company?”
“You know how people in Ireland say shit, they say shyt!”
Each ending with the most childish laughter you could imagine.
All we needed was some brewski’s and we’d be living it up watching this guy clean the toilet.
What was even more weirder (other than three guys watching another clean a bathroom stall) was that we were giving each other the sickest, funniest anecdotes in between one-liners. Oh man, the stories would make you vomit with laughter. Both of the custodians had children and… good God the stories!
Finally the cleaner was done and he admitted that it was the first time he had an audience (we even applauded the guy afterwards).
And I wonder why I’m single—wait I know, it’s because I’m next in line to get Britney pregnant!