Shit If I Know

Why does everyone tap their watch when the battery dies? Are they trying to wake up the watch fairy?

My Daily Walk

I always wonder what I am going to write about in this Blog. Today was no exception. Every day I try and get out of my office downtown and take a walk. It gives me a little exercise and I get to see some great fodder. First I head down the elevator. This is usually an experience but luckily there was only a co-worker with me. Of course this is someone I have never talked to in my life who figures its important to make idle chit-chat. I’m not a fan of talking for talking’s sake. It’s only 30 seconds of silence, would it kill you to keep your trap shut?

So I roll out of my daily abode and across the street to hit the bank. I have to pay for parking so I have to make this trip once a week. I walk by “Cesar Chavez Park”. Yes they named a park after this tyrant but I digress. Let the fun begin.

The first person I come across is a 200 lb girl who somehow wedged herself in what appears to be a teal, chiffon evening dress. Not a pretty sight. And of course I am behind her. Then I see her shoes. Picture a donkey hoof sitting on top of a popsicle stick with a 10 penny nail sticking out the bottom. The scariest part is I noticed some guys checking out this oompa loompa. Shudder to think.

Next comes the random old man sitting in a fold out chair on the corner of a busy street. Then the typical white garbage in his lovely sweat stained wife beater. Follow this up with another dreg of society coming out of a Subway telling everyone not to go in there “Cuz they a bunch of motherfucking faggots.” Of course he has his four year old girl in tow. Followed by the hundred’s of well dressed lobbyists around the Capitol. And last but not least, the two fully tattooed and pierced gentlemen talking about one of them trying to get a promotion; most likely at the local Carl’s Jr.

And some wonder why I go on these walks.

I Wonder

You ever notice that the handicapped bathroom stalls all flush with more force than the other stalls? Do Handis naturally have bigger droppings?

The Cost of Stupidity

At what point do we look at ourselves and say, “Wow, I am a dumb fuck”? Of course that will never happen to me due to my incredible level of intelligence, narcissism and general good looks. However it needs to happen to a lot of people. Let the diatribe light up.

I was watching one of the many “Reality” shows about rich and mildly retarded but fully siliconed girls. This one was called “Daddy’s Spoiled Little Girl”. I won’t even bore you with the mundane details of how they spent $19k on 3 snowmobiles that they will never ride or the 100k they gambled in Tahoe in a weekend. No these two 30 year old girls (I use the term girls more to describe their mental capacity then their age) live off of daddy and have nothing to show for it. Neither of them could construct a coherent thought with both their brains yet they have what many intelligent people want: money.

Which leads me to that annoying little saying; “It’s not the destination but the journey.” These two dunder-sluts will never know happiness outside of their tiaras. They will never know the joy of accomplishing or creating. Of course they will know the heartbreak of one night stands and STD’s, but that’s another story.

The New National Pastime

I never understood the reasoning behind why baseball is considered the “National Pastime”. Back in the 1920’s, when the only thing to do was watch baseball and bake pies, I could see its allure. However, in the present day, it is obvious that baseball ranks right down there with jumping rope and listening to Al Franken.

This is why I think we should no longer call baseball the national pastime. I am here forth, petitioning that the new national pastime be: Mowing down a Big Mac while driving your SUV and yapping on the cell phone. It can even be a sport. We could call it the Obnoxilon. Which is short for Obnoxious, annoying, selfish – athlon. We would rule the Olympics in this sport. Of course it would take 20 years for the athletes to be whittled down to only the top 10 in America but what a glorious moment it would be to see our finest big mouthed, obese, self-loathing Americans on the medal stand.

Society's Degradation

Offices are the crux of our society. They are where we all come together; people of differing backgrounds and cultures. It is the perfect microcosm of why America currently sucks.

To the guy who listens to the radio 2 notches too high: This isn’t a street corner and you’re not in your Impala with the 15’s bumping. Turn it down.

To the chick who thought the all you can eat fried platter would be a good lunch choice: You aren’t at your previous job at Long John Silver’s, I don’t want to smell like a Mexican Restaurant the rest of the day.

To the two jackholes who think it’s funny to shoot rubber bands at each other: This isn’t third grade. Grow up you freaking delinquents.

To the entire department I share a printer with: Either print your 250 page report somewhere else, or at least come and get it sometime in the next couple hours. This isn’t your kitchen sink piled high with dishes, others need to use it.

To the wandering guy who talks to everyone constantly: Get to work or go home, this isn’t a singles bar nor is it a poetry reading.

To the speakerphone girl: I know you don’t lift weights at home but is it so hard to pick up the receiver before dialing? I don’t want to hear the ringing or the yapping.

To the guys who are supposed to send out the same important email everyday but constantly forget: You send it every flipping day, how do you forget 3 days a week? Do you forget your kids in the car 3 days a week or to feed your dog 3 days a week?

We live in a society here people. It’s not all about you.

Barista Bashing

If the barista at Starbucks puts the opening of my lid over the seam of the cup again, I am going to rip the ring out of her nose and plant it in her forehead.

Tramp Stamps

Ahh, teenage rebellion, is there anything quite as cute and stupid? Our parents used to wear really tight jeans that you needed pliers to zip up. Then it was really hardcore to get something other than your ears pierced. And now that we find prison art to be so passé’, girls are going that extra mile to make themselves stand out from the adult crowd and fit right in with their peers. Yes, nothing says “I am different” than doing exactly what your friends are.

Of course I am talking about the phenomenon of girls getting tattoos above their ass-crack. Whether you call it “Fart Art”, “The Cum Target”, or my personal favorite, the “Tramp Stamp”, it’s still the same thing. Lame! Come on girls, how many of you are going to get a butterfly or a rose permanently planted above your brown-eye? It simply isn’t rebellious. In fact it’s pretty sad and pathetic. Our society cannot continue to try and one up itself every generation. What’s next, forking your tongue? Oh wait, that’s being done to. Why don’t teens just cut off their heads and let Darwinism take affect?

You! Yeah, you with the 63 tattoos, 24 piercings, and shallow sense of self worth, get your pin cushion face and your Crayola scribbled body out of the gene pool so there is more room for us.

Long Time, No Drivel

You could say I have been on vacation for a couple weeks. You would be dead wrong though. In all actuality, I got a new job and have had zero time to update this. Of course I have a little time at home but this is not an at-home blog. This is an “I am bored at work and feel like yapping about stuff that is completely unimportant to everyone but me” blog. Therefore, you can now welcome me back with the praise and fanfare I so duly deserve.

So I have this new job. It’s at one of those newer style financial places. Not a brokerage but more of an Institutional Investor. I’ll let that fly over your head and splatter on the wall for a second. Great! Now this place is filled with mostly mid to late twenties people. Of course along with that demographic goes a few types of people. There are the corporate wannabe’s, the happy-go-luckys and the fresh out of college kids. Then there is my least favorite……..

The “I am just smart enough to get a good job but I don’t want anyone to take me seriously so I will wear my shittiest clothes to work everyday and go undercover, incognito.” Jack-hole. You know the guy. Whenever a big fish client or upper management is in the office, the front reception sends out the “Make sure and dress nicely” email. Of course this douche still comes in his Saturday morning worst with his frayed jeans, oversized button up t-shirt, and his nicest pair of gym shoes. I want to just come up behind him and put my fist through his skull, dig around for the brain inside, find nothing and walk away.

It’s like they need a map through life to keep from falling of the planet.

MySpace or Pathetic Losers

What is the point of MySpace? I'm a 28 year old married man with a 4 year old son. I have about 10 close friends not including my wife's friends. I barely have time to see or talk to them. I am certainly not the busiest guy I know and I rarely spend as much time with friends and family that I would like. So why in the hell do people join MySpace? From what I understand, it is just a website that you list your interests and other things about yourself that no one particularly cares about. Then random people that know your friend's-sister's-dog's-long lost uncle post things on your page. Then, voila, you have a new friend that you may say one thought to, and will never actually see in person. What is the point of this? Is it to say that you have umpteen online non-existent friends? While you are building hundreds of superficial relationships, I am trying to cut back on my real life friends because I don't have enough time for them.

Why Stereotypes Exist

Stereotypes. Say it slowly, s-t-e-r-e-o-t-y-p-e-s. To the uneducated it sounds like a trip to the local Circuit City. To the over-educated it's a sign of ignorance. To me it's a useful tool. Let me explain.

Stereotypes are frowned upon by our society. Whether it is based on skin color, religion, or some sort of physical appearance, everyone in our politically correct world thinks that it is wrong. Unfortunately it is something we cannot control. The human brain and psyche is based upon repetition. The more we do something, the better we get at it. The better we get, the more efficient we become and free up our brains for other things. So if the first 5 times we ever meet a fast food employee and they are slow and gruff, we assume the next time that we see one, they will be the same. It keeps us from having to go through the process of forming an opinion about them, which takes time and brain power. Thus freeing up our thoughts to think about the upcoming weekend or the inner workings of quantum physics.

So you can see that stereotypes are innate in the human psyche. However, are stereotypes true? Well to some degree they are. There is a statistical theory that involves a minimum number of participants in order to obtain accurate results. This theory goes hand in hand with stereotypes. If enough people of a certain group do a certain thing, it is statistically accurate to assume that they will possess these characteristics. Maybe we are looking at things wrong. Maybe the stereotype of white trash men beating their wives is true. But instead of one white trash guy not beating his wife, and thusly breaking the stereotype, maybe he simply isn't white trash. Maybe, just maybe the stereotypes are true but we incorrectly pigeon hole people into a cultural group that they don't belong in.

After all, stereotypes exist for a reason.

Starbucks Junkies

I hit up Starbucks about once a month. I used to work at 5 AM in the morning so I used to go at least twice a week. During that time I have noticed many things that drive me to slit my wrists. The experience of a Starbucks is unlike any other. You walk in and it's like stepping into another country, replete with a different language and culture.

The people behind the counter are about the most annoying people on Earth. They are always happy. We all know it's not the caffeine, since you never see them actually drink the coffee. I think it's just the end result of Starbucks' other earnings booster, meth. But I won't go into that conspiracy theory here. When you get to the line that is about 6 people deep, you realize there is only one person at a register but 3 to 4 behind the counter. There is also the one girl who simply asks to start a drink for you. No, don't start a drink, start up another register and start taking some cash.

The customers are the bane of society. First off, if you have over 25% body fat, you should not be allowed in. You need a morning pick me up? Go for a jog. Don't come in and ask for a, dear God, Venti Caramel Machiatto Frappacinno with extra caramel shots, whip cream, chocolate sprinkles, and SOY MILK. Do you realize that there are 1,000 calories in that? Or how about the fact you want soy milk. Oh the irony. Then there is the businesswoman who always orders a white chocolate mocha. Then gets upset because it takes too long. Hey bitch, first off, you are here everyday in this same line. Second, you aren't important. Third, if your time is so valuable, make one of your subordinates get the coffee. Which leads to the jerk-off who orders 6 drinks. Buddy, next time, make those lazy asshats at your office get their own coffee.

Which leads to me. All I want is a fucking drip coffee! I would get it at AM/PM if their coffee didn't taste like it was strained through a monkeys ass. All I want is a cup of black drip coffee. Notice that? If your order is longer than three words, then you don't need it. So I go in and wait in the line of buffalos and wannabes. Listening to annoying cell phone calls, tapping feet, and retarded orders. It's amazing that something like coffee would make me do this but if there is no coffee at home, something must be done. Now if I could just get that moron behind the counter to not put the lid on the seam of the cup so that it drips on my shirt.

What I hate about you....

Some call me narcissistic. Others claim I am cynical. My therapist says I am maladjusted. I say I'm a realist.

How does this affect you? It doesn't.

Society as a whole is pretty pathetic. I don't lump myself into society because I am so much more intelligent, witty, and open minded than all of you. Of course I have my opinions but they are based on facts, which essentially makes them facts in and of themselves. So what separates an incredible philosopher like myself from the average Joe dumbass? Here is a list of reasons why I hate you.

You use cliches and over used slang all the time. Is it that hard to come up with something new? Are you that large of an asshat? Can't you like, possibly like, try and like, find a like, new way to like talk that isn't like your soon to be unemployed, ignoramus, friends?

You're mindless drones. You see something on TV more than once and it must be true. You watch the evening news and think that Brian Williams is telling you the truth. Brian doesn't give a furry gerbil about you. The next monkey that tries to debate me by using information from a newspaper or network news, will get a face full of feces.

You think I care about the car you drive? No, I care about the car I drive. As in, will it break down on me, do I need to put gas in it, or does it smell like a men's locker? Congratulation on the purchase of those super-duper cool 24" rims. What did those set you back, $4k? Maybe next time you can just give me the money and I can kick you in the balls. At least you'll have a story to tell about it.

You're cell phone habits. I don't care that you have friends to talk to on the phone. It just means that you either have lazy, needy, or unemployed friends. Next time you want to tell your girlfriend about the venereal disease you caught last weekend, do it in the privacy of your home.

Your ugly kids. My kid is cute. In fact he will probably be a model some day. However your kids are ugly. Please, don't try and show me pictures of your kids. It will only make you feel stupid when you see mine. No one cares about the sea-donkey that you and your spouse created in a drunken stupor. There's also a 50% chance that one of you is not the real parent.

I could go on forever with this list. Maybe this will be a regular feature here. Or maybe not, it just makes me hate you even more.

RIP English Language

Let me put on my Nostradamus beard and make a prediction.......

The English language will officially be dead in ten years.

America will soon have 35% of it's population over the age of 60. Unfortunately these people will soon be dead and with them will go the spoken language of America. How is this? Let's not even bring up the fact that most immigrants refuse to learn the language and many states are becoming bilingual because of this. Let's also throw out the fact that many Americans butcher the language (See Ebonics and our Wisconsin and Michigan residents). No, the death will come from the most innocent of people. People who are the future of America. Our children.

Between the internet, a pathetic school system, and instant messaging, our great means of communication has degraded to a chorus of single syllable grunts and vowel-less, thumb typed messages. The worst offender is the internet and forums. Unless you have been living in a tree for the last five years, you certainly are aware of internet forums (Formerly BBS'). These are a great addition to the internet and allow groups of people from all over to come together and discuss topics that interest them. There are forums for everything except proper English usage. These forums are usually overrun with people who not only cannot spell or use proper punctuation, but also can't use a spell-checker. They simply want to type their feelings in the least amount of time possible. Thus resulting in wonderful internet speak like "Oh Rly?" or "Chk ths out!!!!1". Of course when someone corrects them or accuses them of poor grammar, they retort "You understood me, I can spell but I choose not to care".

Instant messaging is the second worse offender. Kids love IM because it allows them to say whatever they want without the fear of sounding like a fool. You can type anything and if the recipient is offended, you can just type "j/k". Since communication is 90% body language, it is important to use excellent punctuation and grammar to get your point across. This just goes in one ear and out the other.

The third and most heinous offense is the one committed by the school systems. Not only do they not put a priority on English but they put a higher priority on foreign languages. The linchpin is that kids think that the only place they need to use good language skills is in school but the schools don't care. So not only do they use poor language skills on a daily basis but they aren't challenged to use them where they are supposed to be learning it.

Soon enough we won't have a language anymore. It will be a potpourri of grunts, three letter words, and misspellings. I guess that's okay since most parents cannot understand a word that their kids use when talking to their friends.

"Whatever, English ain't important if you can understand me anyways, right? Irregardless, I don't care anyways."

After typing that last line, I feel like cutting off my hands.

No Soup For You!

My parents found this new diet that is for heart patients who are overweight and need to have surgery. This magic diet promises you will lose between 10-17 pounds in a week. Sure you will. But they actually did lose quite a bit of weight so my significant other decided to try it. Myself, I was skeptical to say the least. Diets, in my opinion, are shams and bad for your body in general. I am a big fan of exercise and eating what your body needs (Plus the occasional In&Out Double-Double). But being the good husband I am and not wanting to have to cook for myself for a week, I went along with it.

The diet basically consists of a vegetable soup. The soup contains carrots, green beans, onions, celery, tomatoes, bell peppers, and beef broth. You make a big fat pot of it and you can eat as much of it as you want at anytime during the one week diet. It really isn't a bad soup and is actually pretty good. Each day of the diet you can have different things. For example, one day you can only have fruits with the soup. One day you can only have vegetables, one day you can have both and a couple days you can eat all the meat you want. The premise is that your body needs certain nutritional elements at certain times. It is a pretty carb light diet except for the fruit. You can drink pure juices, coffee (No sweeteners), tea, milk and lots of water.

The first day was the hardest. I craved everything in the house because I couldn't have it. The second day was worse. I wanted a candy bar soo bad but I didn't cheat. The third day was pretty easy and I was starting to feel pretty good. The diet is also a good way to "Clean" you out. They say you may want to eat some fiber to combat any constipation. Let's just say I read a lot of books in the library so fiber was not an issue for me. By day four I was down 7 pounds. Granted I am far from what you would call a fattie. I started at 177 lbs and I am 5'10". So by day three I was at 170 lbs. Not too shabby. However it was definitely harder to keep up my exercise regiment. Normally I run 3 miles 5 days a week. I could barely make it the first day and have progressively gotten stronger, although it is still a lot more of a strain than before. I owe this to the lack of complex carbs in the diet. The last 3 days were pretty easy. In the end I lost 8.5 lbs. Not bad considering I am not a fattie to begin with.

It was nice to drop some weight quickly but I think the best part about the diet was how it reminded me that I actually like fruits and vegetables. I can see how easy it is to fall into the junk/fast food diet. So it's been 3 days since I finished the diet. I gained back 1 lb but it was because I had some beer and a big dinner the first night after it was over. I am actually eating the soup for lunch today and a bunch of fruit. So there it is, the one week soup nazi diet. Now that I am an Adonis, I will not be posting here ever again, I have to go reward the sun with my incredible physique. Later fatties.

My Favorite Vegetable

No, this is not about Christopher Reeves. This is about the best vegetable around. One that not only makes you feel good but also tastes delicious. It is often overlooked but is definitely the cream of the crop. It also makes me feel like a big shot because it is what I like to call an "Upscale Veggie". Order some at a restaurant and everyone looks at you like you are special. Like you have a sophisticated palate and know about the little luxuries in life.

This sprout is unlike any other. The color, the texture and the verbiage are all unique. Corn is referred to as kernels (Yawn), broccoli is referred to as flowers (Not very fragrant), and celery is often called a stalk (Two letters away from "Stalker"). All of these are simply pretenders. They cannot compare to something that goes by the term "Spear" or "Tip". That's right, the best vitamin filled morsel is the one and only Asparagus. I capitalize it because of it's dominance over all others. Pan fried or steamed, it is the quintessential delicacy. Not only is the taste wonderful but the smell is to die for. Besides, is there anything better than the smell of Asparagus pee? I rest my case.

Calabasas Smoking Law

I don't know about you (Shoot, I don't even know who in the toodles reads this anyhow) but I really like the California smoking laws. When I was a kid restaurants had smoking sections and inevitably the non-smoking section smelled like a burnt out building. Now we are lucky to not have smoking in public buildings, restaurants and bars. This is nice and makes going out much more pleasurable. Unfortunately the state has started going further. Calabasas has joined Davis in outlawing smoking in almost every non-private area of town. Currently in Davis you cannot smoke anywhere in public (Parks, outdoors, etc) unless in a specified area. You also cannot smoke in your house or car unless the windows are closed. You will be fined unless you play dumb. Personally I don't nor never have smoked. I find it to be a pretty nasty little habit. I do enjoy the occasional cigar though in the comfort of my backyard. Something I couldn't do in Davis if I don't actually own the property (Sucks for renters).

I think this is going one step to far and one step closer to outlawing cigarettes. California recently classified cigarette smoke as a toxin. This will definitely lead to the banning and many lawsuits. I feel sorry for smokers. They are basically taking away a right that these citizens have as Americans. The biggest problem is that if cigarettes are banned in California, where will the government find the money to replace all of those tax dollars? After all we want to make as much money off of the smokers as we can before they keel over from emphysema.

End Times

Even the most narrow minded atheist has to admit that the world appears to be headed into oblivion. War, famine, Islamo fascism, and the rise of the Evil Empire are all predicted by the Magic Book and its hero, Jesus. It cannot be argued that we are in the most tumultuous times in the history of man (Obviously not in the history of the world since the dinosaurs kind of got the shaft). Of course all of the previous atrocities will lead man to its demise but the true catalysts are a little less obvious. America is on the bleeding edge of the death of society. We have become the biggest whining, self loathing, blowhards in the world. We have our beliefs but we never seem to adhere to them. We tell others what to do when when we are the ones who should be listening. And finally we are a bunch of panty waists.

What America needs is a true enemy. A Nazi Germany or a Cold War Russia. We have terrorists but 9/11 was soo long ago that we have forgotten about it. Remember after 9/11 when every other car on the road had an American flag on it? Now they are all gone. Not because people took the stickers off but because we got new cars and new stuff is cool. Pretty soon the Islamo-Fascists will strike here again and it will take even less time for us to forget. Look around you daily and you will see the lethargic lazy society we have become. People litter when there's a trash can 6 feet away. People incessantly feel that public areas are their personal comains. People constantly critisize without a solution. We have become cynical to all the good things and dismiss truly important causes. Wake up America before you become slaves. Oh wait....we already are.

You Saw My Blinker Bitch

I have come across the laziest human attribute. It is simply the act of using your blinker. I know what your thinking; "But it takes so much time and energy to lift my finger off the steering wheel and flip the blinker on." Of course it's difficult but I think your anxiety can be overcome. First off, we are the laziest yet most multitasked humans in the history of the world. We can't make our own coffee (That's what Starbucks is for) but we can drink it, while eating a Breakfast Jack, listening to Howard Stern and staring at the hottie in the car behind us. All the while navigating the most treacherous road conditions known to man.

Most people don't use their blinker because there is nobody around. Nobody behind me so why use it? Let's start with people in front of you. Don't you hate when you're waiting to pull out onto a street and there is a car coming? So you wait for them to go by but they slow down and turn onto your street. "Dammit" I could have went 30 seconds ago if that guy would have been polite enough to use his blinker. It's not just politeness to your fellow fossil fuel burner that is important. The biggest reason people say they don't use their turn signal is because no one is behind them. Here's a concept for ya, maybe if you used your blinker the guy in your blindspot, that you didn't see, may alert you to the fact that your about to put a Miata tattoo on the side of your new Hummer. This is especially important with the advent of new driver attention grabbing devices like cell phones, navigation systems, complex stereos, and yapping wives.

So next time you decide to merge, turn, or change lanes, take that oft under used ring finger out of your brown-eye and activate your blinker. You can clean the feces off later.

"The Code" or The Male's Guide to Public Bathrooms

Male bathroom etiquette.

As men, we are looked upon as animals by women when it comes to our bathroom behavior. However, as most men know, there is a strict code of conduct in public restrooms that must be followed. Women tend to think our bathrooms are worse than theirs. Have you men ever been in a women's bathroom? Trust me, it's not the hot, sexy place you dreamed about in your teens. To keep up our standards we must make sure the code is followed strictly. If you see someone violating the code it is perfectly polite to reprimand them gently. Here my friends is "The Code."

It is never acceptable to talk, make eye contact, or even acknowledge another man once you are past the imaginary line that separates the wash area from the penial exposure area. Once safely in the wash zone, it is ok to nod, say hello, or make very casual conversation. This should be kept to a minimum though. If your cell phone rings, DO NOT answer it. You are not that important and you will be ridiculed by any other men in the bathroom. Besides, the person on the other end will know exactly what you're doing. After your business is done, if you are in a disgusting facility, it is ok to not wash your hands if the only thing you touched was yourself. If you did not use your foot to flush, you must wash.

When entering the bathroom men should always take the first or last urinal. Each subsequent male should take the farthest urinal from anyone already there. This continues until there is no longer a buffer between urinals. Men then have a choice of either violating the urinal buffer zone or using the stall. Most will violate the zone unless they are a sufferer of shy bladder, those men choose the stall in this instance and will choose the stall almost everytime they are in the bathroom. They have a problem and men should not think less of them.

If anyone looks at you while at the urinal, you should immediately look away. Never make eye contact! If anyone takes a gaggle over the separation wall, you should put away the beast and leave immediately or move to a different urinal or better yet, a stall as you will probably be pretty shook up. There shall be no talking. However if you are at a sporting event and the person next to you is drunk and trying to make conversation, it is acceptable to talk because the offending male will feel much remorse and personal failure the next day when he remembers what he did.

Now if you are stuck in the buffer zone, do not, I repeat, DO NOT, think about stage fright. Much like premature ejaculation, the more you think about it, the more likely it happens. If, for some reason you do get stage fright (Someone talks to you or looks at you) it should not be seen as abnormal or a threat to your manhood. It is a natural reaction and can be overcome by multiplying large numbers in your head or reciting sports statistics. Occasionally a tension breaker like running water will help. Sometimes, if the male next to you has the dreaded fright, it is acceptable to give them a flush of your urinal to break the tension. However, you should never flush your own urinal before unzipping, this not only informs others of your recurring fright problem but also jinxes you to have it right then. Use the multiplication or hope for the helpful flush. If fright is exacerbated and you are unable to go it is ok to act like you did and go back later. This "Get out of jail free card" can only be used every so often. If it becomes a regular occurrence, you need to start using the stall.

Stall etiquette is a little trickier because males tend to think that they have diplomatic immunity when no one can see them. Therefore a few rules are generally accepted by males. The first is you should lift the seat if urinating. How would you like to sit in someone else's piss? This rule is bendable if the seat has a drip cutout in the front and it is ok to use your foot to lift. Another faux pas is not using the ass gasket. This sailor hat is there not only to give you piece of mind while sitting on it but also to give you the knowledge that the last hairy bastard in there was not "ass to porcelain." Of course, the courtesy flush is always in force and must be recognized at all times. This isn't your home and your wife isn't around, therefore there is no reason to expose others to your "Brand". Remember, this is not your home so there is a de facto 3 minute rule. Whatever cannot be accomplished in that time frame, is not important enough to do in a stall. Be courteous to your fellow man. Finally, flush early and flush often.