Please, No shitting allowed.

I work at an Art and Crafts store in the scrapbooking / Fine Arts department.

Yes, Scrapbooking.

Yes, I am a heterosexual Black Male who works in scrapbooking.

Stop laughing!

95 percent of my customers are female. 99.8% of my Loyal customers are Females (save 0.2% for that guy with the neck brace), but I digress.

The reason for this post is a Public Service Announcement.

Please Refrain from shitting in our restrooms. Please shit at home.

Now, let me explain.

I was in the office doing something on the computer. When I finished, I realized that I had to Piss. The bathrooms are literally a foot away from the office, men's room on the left, lady's on the right.

I sweep into the men's room and right into the middle of the most fetid, horendous, stomach churning stench ever issued from the human digestive system. My stomach doubles over on itself, and I get light headed.

My mouth was open, For Christ's Sake! I could taste the stink!

I gulped a lungful of air and went to the urinal and did my business.

Little Known Fact: If you look at the black tiles by the partition between the urinal and the toilet, you can see who is taking a shit reflected off the tile.

All I could see was a huge purple Shirt, and all I could hear was grunting sounds, and a sound not unlike a a broken Slurpee machine.

You know, phphphphphhpbbbbbbttttt!

I'm pissing, really trying to put maximum pressure on and finish up quickly, when I realize that I want to know who is in my store shitting up the place like they were at home. so I formulate my plan.

I shake off and zip up, and go to wash my hands. For about 6 minutes. I think the guy in the toilet was waiting me out. But he doesn't know is that I have all day!

By now I have washed the hell out of my hands for ten minutes, and he still hasn't come out, when all of a sudden I hear the latch click open, and the door swings open.

Out comes at least 400 pounds of bearded fat white guy wearing a huge purple T-shirt, khaki fat-man pants, and sneakers with velcro straps. i cut off the water and turn to leave, mission accomplished, when this fat bastard walks to the door and leaves without washing his hands!!!

WITH. OUT. WASHING. HIS. HANDS.

Christ on a Dumptruck! He stink-palmed the gawdamn doorknob!!

I dosed the knob with lysol and used a paper towel to get the hell outta dodge before someone thinks I turned the bathroom into a biohazard.

I got on the Intercom and told my Fiance, and the rest of the customer service ladies to look out for Mr. Stink-palm.

The Smell of shit followed the guy around the store. The whole bathroom area, and the office smelled like shit for three hours.

Why do people wait till they get to our store to decide they need to shit?

Shit at home, people! Do I come to your job to shit? Christ!

Glad I got that out of my system.

I'm getting M-A-R-R-I-E-D!

Welcome To Maiden Post of Atomic Smartass!

I figger, I have a lot of profound thoughts. I should get me one of these blogs so I can expose the world to my mad ravings, rants, and shit that strikes me as interesting.


Wrap your Brain around this shit. I am getting Married!

That's right, The Atomic Smartass is taking a bride.

What is more nutty about this is that My girlfriend of over a year Tasha (Short for Natasha) Actually agreed to be my wife.

I am as surprised as you are.

Hell, I havent even purchased an engagement ring, but she has already agreed to marry my broke ass. we have a tentative date in 2008.

Personally, I am really stoked about this. I have the most perfect woman in the world at my side, and together we will kick ass, Hardcore Chuck Norris style.

Between Her grace and my Brute force, we will roll right over any obstacle in our path. We have a bright future ahead of us.

SO there is only one problem. The First Dance.

You see, Being that I am six foot, five inches tall, and she is five foot, three inches tall, there is a 14 inch height difference. When we are dancing (we tried in the breakroom at work) it looks like I am atttempting to apply a headlock. If she wasn't so cute, this would be hilarious.

Actually, I find the whole thing Hysterical. Standing next to my fiance, I can easily rest my elbow on top of her head.

When we hug, her face is buried just under my sternum.

Other than that, the wedding plans are in full swing. This means that I am not involved in any way.

My only request being that she mark where I am supposed to stand at the altar with an X of duct tape .

More Postings to follow as The Wedding matures. I fully expect some trylu interesting things to occur over the next year and a half.

Excelsior!

Who The HELL is Pissing On the BUS!

Alarming new trend in public transportation. Pissing on the Bus.

I ride the bus to work everyday. Thanks to Misspent youth and a need for speed, My license is curently suspended.

So, I ride the N40 bus home, and every other day, the rear of the bus smells like stale urine.

Now the N40 is a bus that is always full of people, so how is it possible to piss all over the stairs leading to the rear exit?

I think I would notice some dude pulling his hog out and hosing down the rear exit of the bus.

Whoever is doing this must have goddamn Navy Seal Infiltration techniques. He is like a ghost, a phantom...

He is the Phantom Pisser!

I don't know what's worse:

• the fact that there is a guy running around pissing on public buses
• the fact that people ride the bus and act like NOTHING IS WRONG!

It would seem that even the Bus driver is in on it, because he doesn't even bother to rinse the urine off the steps. I am starting to think that most people on the bus enjoy the smell of days old urine. .

I guess to some people there is nothing better than a nice thirty minute ride in a hermetically sealed bus with the floors damp with The Phantom Pisser's latest attack.

Hell, people pay $2.25 for this priviledge.

I swear , if I ever find that bastard who is pissing all over the N40 bus out of mineola ( you know who you are) I will spend the whole ride home Stomping his nuts into oblivion.

You deserve to catch Ass Herpes and die.