Random Winning! and Losing!

If Charlie Sheen can spew forth a litany of incoherent, unconnected thoughts and concepts, so can I.

First, on the topic of Charlie, do we really need to boost his ego, further fueling his downward spiral, by watching as he rapidly unravels, turning himself from handsome pinup boy to Nick Nolte's crazier brother?

It was fun to watch for a minute but, like gore porn, there comes a time where you realize you have now moved beyond the norm and have entered dangerous territory.

Turn off your internet Charlie.  That's how you win.



If he continues on this path, he'll have nothing left to sell.  He should write down those nuggets of wisdom and sell them all in one big, crazy, incoherent, hysterical book.

I'm busy as fuck and I have this condition where I cannot focus on the work at hand, scouring the web for anything that might pique my interest.  So, I hit a site I frequent that centers on the Nook and Nook Color, two ereaders from Barnes and Noble.  I have both devices and I hit the boards there to see what's up with software upgrades, suggestions for applications and other boring ass shit.  Today, after realizing I had read everything that interested me on the site, I hit their "lounge" area.  This is an area where the members can talk about anything other than the nook devices.  It's a rather stiff site, as you'd expect from a bunch of book lovers and the lounge area is somewhat sad and lonely.  More so since the first three threads in that section are "Prayer Request" "I need Your Prayers" and "What do you love most about your significant other?"

Now, the prayer request is something I understand.  I get it.  You have some issue that has befallen you - a sick family member, a personal health scare, work issues etc and you turn to the community you spend time in, for support and sympathy.  Me?  I doubt if you'd catch me posting on my favorite site (other than this one) if my wife was leaving me (ok, bad example) or if some family member was gravely ill.  I doubt if I'd even mention it to my friends, unless they asked how so and so was doing.  That's just me.

I also get it when they ask for prayers, they want you to pray to whatever deity you pray to.  There's a guy on the nook site who posts a personalized prayer for each request.  The first time I saw it, all I could think was "moron, she wants you to pray at home, in your mind etc, not to write her a prayer."

I figured the preacher wannabe was probably downloading some kiddie porn and posting prayers to even out the sin.

Now, the first prayer request was, clearly, from a member who people know.  They're donating money to help her sister out, there are several pages of posts from the various members.

The second prayer request, which came before the first, has two posts and the second is amateur father fred posting his actual prayer.

Is it bad when you want to be a priest and you wind up being a thread killer? 

Is there a prayer for that?

The last thread, is, however, the best.  It's all these members talking about why they still love their significant other.  There's all this crap about how great he or she is, how funny, kind etc.

I call bullshit.

The only way all these people are that happy in their relationships is if they are all too busy reading their ereaders, and posting on the site, to realize their significant others are banging strangers behind their backs.

I was so tempted to post my real, true thoughts in each of the threads I mentioned but I kind of like the site, there's some decent info to be had there, and I'd hate to be banned because I posted the following prayer:
"Dear Lord, please make sure that every time Sarah gets out of bed, her knees buckled, causing her to fall and slam her chin into the nightstand and, Lord, please make sure that every animal in the neighborhood shits on her lawn and, Lord, one last thing, please make sure that all flights to and from the airport drop their waste on her home.  Thank you Lord"

Speaking of the Lord, there is one.  I know this because, this morning, I was privy to his work.

I walked into the bathroom to pee and the stench in the hallway was brutal.  I wasn't sure if this was a work in progress of the residual effect of some poor bastard's mexican fiesta the night before but I had to pee, badly, so I took a big, deep breath, pulled my shirt up over my mouth and nose, and entered the bathroom.

The air was thick, and damp, with the stench of really nasty squirty shits.  I moved to the window and opened.  How the fuck can you take a napalm shit with the window down?  If ever there was a time when your own stink was unbearable, this was it.

I walk over to the urinal, pull it out and start to pee. 

Then I hear it.

A loud, rapid fire, splotcher of a fart.  I can actually hear the water and shitlets as they exit this guy's anus and I can hear the splashing of water.  The air is stale in my lungs.  I slowly exhale as I pee, praying I can get out of there before I have to inhale.

The poor bastard in the stall has several more splotchy farts, each one a more digusting mix of air and liquid.

I've never heard anything so painful, so horrific, so sad.

Until I heard his phone hit the toilet seat, followed by the unmistakeable kerplunk os his phone dropping into, what must have been the sister shitter to the Trainspotting toilet.

I'm dying for air and I'm dying to laugh and this guy is muttering "shit, fuck, ahhh shit"

And then I laugh.

I can't help it.  I do.  I laugh.  It's loud and it's wrong but it's fucking hysterical.

And then I gasped in between guffaws and it took all my strength to hold back the raging torrent of vomit that was violently trying to exit my stomach via my mouth.

I said proof of god, no?  God showing me he has a sense of humor, making that poor man drop his phone into the small hole between his legs and the seat.

And as the hot steamy bile came shooting out of my mouth, splashing into the urinal and back onto my shirt, pants and shoes, God showed me that he's a defender of the downtrodden.