Visiting Eyes

I have been fortunate in my lifetime to have already done a good deal of traveling. By some standards, I’m still very much a novice, but by many others I’m an upper class world explorer. That has a nice ring to it actually. I think there should be a world explorer patch. They’ll give it out once you acquire a certain number of travel points. Let’s make it a thing…it’ll be great.

Listen up folks...

This is serious. When someone has a monstrous hole the size of Texas down the ass of their pants, you need to let them know.

This should be so far beyond moral imperative. Beyond even civic duty. From this day forth, I will petition for this to be made universal law! Mandate of Brogie McDoogerson!

Forever Homeless

One of my many dreams in life is to become a professional actor. I’m talking Broadway folks, not silver screen. And I want the whole dream. Starving artist, waiting tables, selling myself for lunch money, the whole bit. So a long while ago, I came to terms with the fact that at some point in my very exciting lifetime, I will live in a box. It will be a bitchin’ swanky dank box as far as boxes go…but a box nevertheless.

Yes, dear friends, I have accepted my inevitable homelessness.

Revelations in a stall...

I want to take a moment right here and now to explain something about myself: I have never been one who understood the phrase ‘shit or get off the pot.’ There are times when nature calls you over and over, and then the bitch puts you on hold while she plays crappy elevator music on repeat. Nobody can poop to bad elevator music! And then there are times when all you can do is sit and wait, absently staring at the stall door and mentally taking a mallet to the guy one stall over who seems to have an endless deluge of Hershey squirts. All of the offensive messages and phone numbers for skank-tastic adventures can be read only so many times before they, too, lose their appeal.