The Great Shift (or The Bathroom, the Penis, and the Napalm)

Well, I am in my final semester of my undergrad, and I am going to try my darndest to update more often, even if I'm only talking to myself.  Because I need to be able to express my somewhat strange (read: insane) ramblings, or I will end up including them in my term papers, which has not ended well in the past.  In addition, I have read over some of my past posts and they bored me.  And I'm the one who wrote them.  And I Like Me.  And if I don't enjoy reading them, it poses the question, "Why on this earth would anyone else want to read them?"

Having said that, I am going to spend more time talking about more interesting subjects (such as my own personal neuroses, things that make me laugh, things that I want to hit with something hard and blunt, etc.)

Now, on to the first post in my new world in which I embrace the purple elephants of my undiagnosed ADD and mold them into a new form that entertains you.



Do you remember the first time you had to use a public restroom as a kid, and your parent had to explain the rules?  In my case, my dad had to explain to me that public restrooms were not as clean as ours at home, so I shouldn't touch anything.  Then I had to figure out the urinal.  Holy crap, was that an ordeal.  When I finally realized what I was supposed to do, I couldn't stop laughing, because, to my infantile mind, whoever set this up actually wanted me to pee on the wall.  After I overcame my laughing fit and finished, I was mildly disappointed, which was business as usual.

I was reminiscing about this experience, and I had a thought.  When we use a public restroom, we all make sure to wash our hands especially well, because they're nasty, and we don't want to end up with gono-herpa-syphil-AIDS.  But what I just realized is that the most disgusting part of the bathroom (outside of the actual "pee on this" surfaces) is the handle of the urinal.  Why?  Because, right after the third shake, we zip up our pants and flush the toilet, with only a mere second or two separating hand/wang from hand/flushing-rod-thingie.  What the heck?  If I designed a bathroom, I'd have a concentrated beam of UV rays and possibly some sort of napalm delivery system installed directly in front of the urinal handle.

OR, more realistically, maybe some sort of flushie-handle condoms to put on it, so I don't end up grabbing 400 penises every time I flush.  I don't care that I'm about to wash my hands, I have a strong aversion to phalli.