I really wish people would stop with the graffiti... except in bathroom stalls. Sometimes I need it there.
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Here I sit, broken hearted. Winked at Fitz, but then he farted.
Posted by: dustinyo
273 days ago
in days of old when knights were bold and condoms had not been invented, the men wore socks upon their cocks, and babies were prevented
Posted by: randyfitz
273 days ago
Some come here to sit and think. Some come here to shit and stink. But I came here to scratch my balls, and read the writing on the walls.
Posted by: dustinyo
273 days ago
the love of my life, is not my dear wife, but a toilet to flush, and extra thick pipes. To take all my crap, without a mouth flap. and when it acts up, I can shut off its tap.
Posted by: randyfitz
273 days ago
On the ceiling above the toilet seat: Your shit must feel real good if your looking up here. Here I sit all broken hearted tried to shit but only farted then one day I took a chance tried to fart and shit my pants
Posted by: Danish
273 days ago
what happened to takingadumpterbate
Posted by: butta99
273 days ago
that's only on special occasions... with candles and soft music
Posted by: randyfitz
272 days ago
i bet you listen to the cranberries during dumpsterbation.
Posted by: butta99
272 days ago
At a rest stop somewhere on the Mass Pike, I was in a bathroom stall, and written on the wall was "Be excellent to each other." It was the single greatest moment of my life.
Posted by: jessica0233
272 days ago
There's a bar in Phx that encourages people to graffiti their bathrooms... Seriously- they give you markers.
Posted by: Dani2897
271 days ago
-In two weeks, I will celebrate a major milestone, my twenty-fourth birthday. Well, maybe “major” isn’t the right word. You see, I just don’t think turning twenty-four is that big of a deal. Turning nineteen is an important birthday, that’s your last year as a teenager. Similarly, twenty, of course, is the first year of your twenties. And at twenty-one, you become legal. But from twenty-two to twenty-four, not much happens. You get into a groove for three years and try not to look ahead. Then your twenty-fifth birthday comes around and all hell breaks loose, next thing you know you’re married and living in Westchester and going to Crate & Barrel to shop for placemats. Thankfully, I’m not there yet. At twenty-three going on twenty-four, I’m still sort of going with the flow. In fact, if your adolescence can be described as the “Wonder Years,” then I say the ages twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four deserve to get their own name too. And so I’d like to welcome you to the “Whatever Years.”
-I don’t know what scares me more, the fact that my mom asked me if I want luggage for my birthday, or the fact that I think I do.
-In honor of my birthday, earlier today I decided to write down all of the major things that have happened to me in the last decade of my life. I only wanted to list the most memorable and life-altering events. Here’s what I came up with: witnessed Rangers win Stanley Cup, graduated high school, lost virginity, graduated college, perfected left-handed masturbation, published book. That’s it. Ten years of living and all I have to show for it is two diplomas, a poster, a paperback, a sore wrist, and a lifetime of frustration. Why do I even bother?
-Where you live during the Whatever Years is crucial. I’m getting kind of fed up with my cramped New York apartment. I long to live in a place that doesn’t require twenty IKEA halogen lamps to light, that has a “living room” not a “common room,” that has a refrigerator with one of those cool ice-cube makers in the door, and that has a bed with a headboard so I can have sex without worrying about flying through temporary plaster wall that separates my room from my roommate’s room.
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