Eating in Bathrooms

There are a fair few things in this life that are not okay. That list seems to be getting exponentially larger with every passing day, but currently includes the likes of; kicking people in the face (unless you are a professional face kicker), driving as fast as humanely possible (unless you are a professional fast car racer), and being an ignorant bigoted racist dickhead (unless you are Donald Trump). Now another thing I would throw in there, and I’m sure you would too, is eating sandwiches in public bathrooms…

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DISCLAIMER: Although I’d rather you didn’t – you are free to eat sandwiches in your own clean bathroom. The world will still judge you harshly for it, but then again – you are probably not going to tell anyone are you? It’ll be your little secret held away from the judgemental eyes of the world’s media – fearful you will be nicknamed “The Pee-Pee Pepperoni”, “Ham and Cheese Bare Knees”, or “Ugly Naked Person Eating a Sandwich”. 

The point is it’s weird. But there’s just something about public bathrooms that makes the act way more weird. Most of them I have ever been in scream: “GET IN, GET OUT. DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING. NO CRUMBS ON THE URINE!” Don’t misunderstand me, apart from the grunting guy in the stalls there isn’t much noise; I was simply suggesting that the oddly sticky floor, the foul stench, and the altogether horribleness of the environment makes for internal screaming so loud you can almost be deafened.

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All of that also makes for a place not okay to munch on a Subway sandwich. Especially if you have another hand steadying the ship (I mean penis.) as you wolf down your lunch.

If it isn’t already obvious I witnessed this, and I still don’t get it. How busy are you mystery stranger? What is going on that you need to multi-task to such a degree?

I really wanted to know, but he already had so much going on.

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The Sandwich Day

We are often told by Hallmark card sentimentalists that “life is a rollercoaster”, and that “there are ups and downs”, and whatever else they bother to print. Which may or may not be true, but that’s not the point I’m making. Instead I am just stating that these printed catch-all messages don’t prepare you for the real depressingly low slumps in the human experience. I mean if they did, then we wouldn’t be so shocked every time these ugly demons dared to spring forth and rudely shake us from our peaceful normality…

You see recently there were whispers around my workplace of a “sandwich day” for the kids. So naturally I was overjoyed! A WHOLE DAY OF SANDWICHES – A WHOLE WORKDAY OF SANDWICH DEVOTED WORSHIP! I mean come on…I said “overjoyed” – but there’s not even a word for how excited I was! Actually maybe there is…let me Google that real quick…ah wait, here it is:

I WAS RAPTUROUSLY BEATIFIC!   

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Yes…that! Imagine a whole day dedicated to sandwiches. I mean, I don’t know how it would really work – but I’m just imagining that maybe each kid brings in a different bread, or cheese, or veggies, or meat…and maybe there would be different sauces…dressings…or you know…whatever on the go – no biggie. Maybe we could test out which breads tasted better as they are, or which should be toasted. Just an idea! Oh! Yeah, and maybe we could check to see if certain cheeses complemented other items, and which worked against them and were a little too overpowering you know? Basically it would be a service to science in a way…we’d be helping people, we’d change lives. It wouldn’t just be about eating sandwiches – although that would be an obvious key component of the day.

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(These were my brief thoughts on the matter, I must make it clear that I didn’t spend too much time dwelling – and the proposed sandwich day definitely didn’t seep into my sleeping dreams…)

Anyway…it turns out the aforementioned sandwich day just means that we have the Tuesday off work, and not the Monday – or something like that. So Monday is like a huge stinking lump of ham in the middle of two glorious pieces of bread (the Sunday, and the Tuesday). Consequently ~ the term sandwich day was formed.

You’d think I would be pleased with all this talk of days off work, and whatever else…but that is not the case – instead I find myself mourning the loss of sandwiches that could have been…and burrowing away in daydreams about what they would look like, and how they would taste…

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Perhaps I’ll have my own sandwich day! Yeah, that’ll show em – off to the shops now, wish me luck!  

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The Rebellion of the Stomach

This is a bit of an over-share, I know that for certain…but I am hoping someone can shine some light on what is so far a very dark day…

So after an innocent child mistook my man boobs for actual woman’s boobs sometime last week (to my absolute horror), I decided that perhaps I should clean myself up a bit. You know, look at my diet and regime to see what can be altered…so that people can hopefully stop asking me if I’ve had a sex change. That’s all I ask really, it’s not much is it? 

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Well I saw that lunch and dinner (usually…) aren’t too much of a problem as I go for traditional style food…high in salt sure, but mainly balanced and full of vegetables. So instead it was breakfast where I was lacking, and making poor choices. Well not poor choices, fucking fantastically delicious choices – but you know what I mean. Not good for the dear old belly – although at the time they make the cuddly chap very happy indeed.

Oh, interesting side note – if I latch my belt tighter by one extra hole then it gives the appearance of a flatter stomach. Thought I would share that, because right now the discovery is changing my life. I am having my cake, and beating it! (Beating the bulge that is.)

Anyway, yeah – back to the horrendous diet thing. So I bought a load of fruits and vegetables, which as we all know are way more fun to buy than disgusting tasting things like pizza, burgers, and chips. I mean, ewww! Cheese? Grease? Fatty goodness? Gimme a break…some people are so selfish. They only like things that are like…delicious…in an obvious in your face kind of way. They have such lazy tastebuds. Myself however, I prefer things like fruit, and vegetables…because you really have to discover the tastes, and also (more often than not) lie to yourself and pretend it tastes great – which takes great dedication and character.

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NO SERIOUSLY HARRY! That’s what real functioning adults do, and if you don’t do the same then you are a total loser and deserve to be thrown into a deep fat fryer – your natural habitat…

…ahh Harry man, I can’t stay mad at you – you were right.  This new fruit and vegetables for breakfast thing is ruining my life, and I am only like two days into it. Today I’ve had three poops and it’s not even 3pm yet. I mean…that’s simply not normal is it? When you have a pet rabbit it’s like fair-dos but humans have other things to do than sit on the pot 24-7. Or at least so I thought. 

Is this how all of the health nuts live? All the people that shame others into eating “right” in order to live forever (or whatever the claim is) – is this how their day looks? Just constant pooing? Is it like a fetish thing? Do they do it intentionally, or is this just a terrible yet unavoidable side effect?

Or am I a broken human, and this shouldn’t be happening? Perhaps I’m faulty? Maybe I should just have a pizza, and make everything okay again? Yeah…yeah? 

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ALRIGHT I’M HITTING THE RESET BUTTON! BACK TO PARADISE I GO, AWOOOOOOO, SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE SUCKAS!

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REJOICE MANKIND!

I HAVE SOME FANTASTIC NEWS FOR YOU! NEW, AND VERY SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH FROM MY KINDERGARTEN CLASS! BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ PEOPLE!

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Low Fat…Low Fun.

Sitting here, staring into the grey abyss of my cereal bowl. The foul putrid liquid that softens, and dulls the frosted flakes – turning them into flavorless cardboard husks before my very eyes. How did it come to this? Do I deserve this fate, which is surely worse than death? 

Low fat…it’s low fun. It’s flavourless, it’s bland. There is no bacon, no cheese. No syrup, no chocolate – no extras, no treats.

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You don’t want diabetes, you don’t want cancer, you don’t want obese bum cheeks…or whatever else they say. So naturally you end up following certain elements of these horrible currents of advice. I’m waiting, not so patiently – for when we begin to celebrate real men or whatever, who have a nice little pouch stomach…like a kangaroo I guess, but not as cute, and well no baby – just gluttony in there. When we begin to celebrate real men for having burger bap nipples, and chaffing thighs – well then I can just let go completely, and will possibly never stop. I can’t wait. 

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Like I literally can’t wait, so fuck it – I’ll just start now, best to get a head start…right? 

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HORRIFYING.

You need to feel sorry for me…like right now – please!

I need all of the “there, there!”, the pats on the back…the warm soup, and blanket – ALL OF THAT STUFF! Because to put it plainly I have just been shook to the very core. In fact my whole world may NEVER be the same…

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Let me just preface by saying I think of myself as a nice enough person – I once helped a blind person across the road, and for years upon years, I used to visit this little old lady, and help her out wherever I could. Okay fine, she was my Grandma – and I only ever helped her finish off the chocolate biscuits – BUT STILL!  It doesn’t mean I deserve this grave injustice, it doesn’t mean that my entire world should be swept away from my feet…to reveal a secret hatch into the fiery depths of an unimaginable form of hell! Does it?! 

Well let me tell you this my fine fellows, you can’t trust ANYONE but yourself. You really can’t. I used to have someone that I thought I could trust…someone who was always there for me, someone who I could call up night, or day…someone who would drop everything to visit me, and knew all of the ways to make me smile. But no longer…

It was a Wednesday, a hump day as it is known – and what better way to power over said hump than dialing up and getting yourself a hot cheesy pizza? After all you’ve earned it! I’m not sure why exactly, but there’s no point quibbling over these unimportant specifics! 

So yeah, you call up your favourite place – and order a large one – because any other size simply does not compute…and then it arrives, and the excitement is real. So you rush around in a frantic mad bunny dash, to set up the perfect situation in which to fully enjoy the experience…aware that with every passing moment it gets colder, and colder, and colder…and in turn the amount of make-shift love it will provide will decrease along with it…

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Okay, I’ll stop being facetious…or hyperbolic (depending on your position on pizza, I suppose!) and just cut to the chase.

It took me a few slices to realise this – because clearly I eat like a rampant buffalo man – but the cheese on the pizza tasted like literal vomit. And not even good, fresh…like baby milky vomit – no, I’m talking like wretched all you can eat buffet kinda vomit. And stupidly I had asked for them to load up on cheese…or to quote myself, “whatever you think is a lot of cheese, then some more!” Because you know, you can’t trust people to have the same appreciation of cheese. Some people are weird, you know? 

So it’s fully my fault I suppose, I could have just had a garnishing of sick on my pizza, but instead I have it besmirching the whole thing with a simply filthy taste. It was like…God, what was it like? …hmmm…imagine milk that has gone bad, and then you leave it in the sun some more – and piss in it for some unknown reason…well yeah, that is what they did, and then it was going right in my mouth.

Horrible person I am, I still ate the majority of it. Left two slices, which has never happened in recorded history. I am actually totally turned off from pizza now, I feel like I have lost a life-long friend, I feel like a bit of me is gone forever…I don’t know what to do, who to turn to. Who will fill this pizza shaped void? 

Well, still trying to stay positive. I have a date with fried chicken, very soon – wish me luck!

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Winter Sickness (AKA: KIDS!)

First, and foremost thank you to everyone for the show of support, and concern – the love is appreciated, that’s for sure! I’m feeling a little under the weather, but with better spirits…so I made this video to warn you of the dangers of children – wrap up, wear a mask, and keep your distance!

I’ve caught the winter sickness…that doesn’t mean you need to get infected to – SAVE YOURSELF!

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