Monday, August 1, 2011

I sms'd my husband that I missed him & he replied 'LOL'. Dang bitch. You could atleast have put a sad face on it.

Just so ya'll know, I'm still lurking round these parts. I'm reading your blogs & loving your comments but sadly have no time to actually sit & write anything  interesting myself. As of right this minute, I feel like someone took my brain outta my skull, rape it, fill it with piles of shit & put it back in my head, but not before beating it with a piece of 2x4 while being slammed in a door. Over & over & over again. One can only assume that what I just described is not a fun time.

I'm borderline stroking. Not that a stroke is funny business. Cos it's not. I just can't think of anything to relate it too.

I'm in Wellington. Working really hard. Helping the cab company I work for stay afloat after a massive restructure within the epicentre of the business. I am stressed the fuck out right now but I'm coping. I scratched my forehead so hard this afternoon for about half an hour & it wasn't even itchy. I made it bleed.

I'm hanging off the edge of sanity. But I still here. And I have a small & somewhat vulgar confession to make.

Today, for the first time in the history of my adult life, I could not shit at work.

Yes way Mcaully Culkin from Home ALone. I couldn't do it. Let me explain.

I am not working in my office at present. I'm on foreign territory. It seems my colon is too afraid to mud one out in anothers place of work. I can only put this down to the fact that my sphincter has terribly good manners? Never did I think I would see the day when I got shit fright. I've felt sick on the inside all day. Mainly because I really wanted to do one but couldn't.

In my office, I work alone. I am a lone wolf. But where I am at present, I am part of a wolf pack. A wolf pack of stranger wolves. When someone departs the room to go make wees or poos, everyone knows where you're going. Even my Lightening McQueen speed dump skill's is not match for these big city folk. I got shy bitches. My outside self is not shy but for some reason my inside self doesn't want to keep up. I've felt sick all day. My shitometer is all up the wazoo & I'm so confused.

Well I was.

You will be pleased to know I have just had some much needed relief at my BFF's house. Thank Christ.

I am going to stop now, before I lose all my followers. Please don't leave me. I need you funny whores right now.

THe winner of my monthly giveaway is comment number 51.
Please adding up of comments starts from comment one of first post of the new month.

Jules I will catch up with you when I get back from Wellington.
This months prize will be announced in Wednesdays blog. That is of course if I haven't stroked by then.



  1. Mrs Social AssassinAugust 1, 2011 at 10:04 PM

    Hang in there hun, i'm sure life (& your sphincter) will be back to normal soon!.....and as for the text thing, just wait til the next time he sends you a lovey-dovey text and just answer with 'K'! xx

  2. Holy Shit, dude. Whatever happened to whale riding? What about running out for lunch to take a shit in some restaurant or back alley? Wow, that really sucks. I mean, I don't remember what it was like to be afraid to go shit somewhere, so I can't help all that much. I used to have it in grade school, but that was decades ago.

    Maybe breach the topic at an appropriate moment?

    "Hey, anybody care if I go take a shit right now? Anybody?"

    Can you take the other wolves out for pints after work and talk to them about it? Not right away, of course, get them drunk enough to open up about their secrets (rent, salaries, fetishes) so that you've got something on them.

    All of that being said, I have to say that you seem to be a very discreet person in real, non-blog life. A friend of mine went on a date a few years ago where the woman talked about her IBS the whole time. The WHOLE time. At the end of it, he just wanted to drop her off, and she wanted a kiss. He couldn't stomach that, and drove off.

    So if she can talk about her IBS and get dates, surely you can pinch out a loaf in the presence of wolves.

  3. I sympathize! My last job was a 3 year stint at a security company, with a single, shared, unisex bathroom. It took me two and a half years before I felt comfortable enough to poop there. I'm sure with your personality, you'll be chums with all those other wolves before long, and mud will be slung affably.

  4. I'm sorry you feel like your brain is being gang-raped, but I seriously should not read your blog at work. HA!

  5. Haha..awesome, thanks Becky, have fun with Kylie

  6. Awww, Bex. Don't dig too deep into that forehead or you might hit some very precious gray matter.

    Waiting to hear about your birthday! :)

  7. Aww hang in there! If your brain rape is too much and you turn into a veg, what am i going to look forward to reading when I'm at work? Also, first Bledisloe Cup game is on this weekend so you have to get your shit together! (Oh see what I did there??)

  8. I hope tomorrow you are able to kill a tree with a whole roll of toilet paper. I would also like to mention that I have never wished anyone a good poo until just now. I have said, "I hope it all comes out okay..." but I've never ever wished someone all the best in decorating the inside of the toilet bowl. FTW!

  9. Atleast you got Kye for the post mental rape counselling sessions!

  10. As much as I like your blog, I'm glad I live halfway around the world and can't be your BFF. I can imagine the knock on the door with you standing there on my porch, all bloaty, clutching your midsection, sweat running down your face. I ask wouldja like a cuppa? and you answer no, you wanna crappa, and run past me and shit what I imagine to be the mother of all poopies in MY bathroom. Oh well, my dogs just got skunked a few days ago. I probably wouldn't even notice the smell.

    Glad you found relief at last.

  11. hanging on the edge of sanity is basically where I exist 24/7 so I understand your blight... hang in there girlie, it will get better.

    If not, there's always booze!

  12. Bitch I am in serious "Missing Becky" mode right now......I want stories from your B-Day.....and your shits on your birthday, were they fulfilling?.....

    Skull Raped...that's a new one....we should make a button for that....

  13. I literally almost pissed my pants reading this post!! I have the same problem, but when I go to people's houses - you know: in-laws, distant family, old friends, booty calls. Shitting is just awkward.

    To cut down on the awkwardness, here's what I do:
    1. Go through their cabinets. If they hear you, just say you were looking for a tampon. Because them thinking you're on your period will undoubtedly distract them from your dumpage.

    2. If you're in a public restroom, flush the toilet. Over and over. And over. Again. One more time. It makes it even funnier for you if you flush in time with a song that you're singing to yourself. But don't sing out loud - that's rude. The flushing, again, will distract your office co-inhabitants. If they ask you about it, claim bulimia. Or low blood sugar. Or Ebola. Any of the above will work.

    3. Always, always, ALWAYS make sure you have enough toilet paper in your stall BEFORE doing your deed. (Trust me, I've made THAT mistake a few too many times. At work.) If you have an extra roll in the stall, make paper flowers and origami swans for your office mates. They will appreciate the thought and treasure their tokens.

    4. If all else fails, be as quiet as you can. Maybe they won't notice you're gone. Then if someone comes into the bathroom, raise your legs so they can't see your feet from under the stall. If they don't know you're in there, they can't blame you for the smell, amiright? Wait for them to leave. If they turn the lights off, then you'll use your extraordinary human abilities to feel your way to the light switch/sink/door. And holding your legs up for that length of time will REALLY strengthen your abs. Oh, and if you're lucky, the other person in the room will be shitting too, and you two will have formed an unbreakable bond. Not only will you smile to yourself every time you see her leave the room (because you know EXACTLY what she's getting ready to do), but you can blame the aftermath on her. It's a win-win.

    Hope this helped!

    Thanks for being awesome!



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