Stool Sample

Guys, I'm about to give to you an actual dream I had...Sometimes I have dreams in third person, like I'm watching a movie.  The one I'm about to share with you is just so unbelievably ridiculous that in my dream, I was watching all this unspeakable and embarrassing horror happen to me and was sitting there cracking up until I couldn't breathe...it was like I was watching a fucking comedy movie...AT MY OWN EXPENSE LOL

I have to be very clear first, that I don't hardly ever have dreams like this...in fact, I've gone from sheer horrible nightmares to dreams of this nature:

And no, I did not go 'look up some random porn' for this image.  It's from Battlestar Galactica...she's one of the Cylons.

So yeah, super hot n smexy dreams.

This was absolutely not one of those.  For two reasons I will not share my super hot and smexy dreams.
1.  I've never really shared anything of a sexual nature, except on another more private blog and that post is now private.
2.  MORE FUN FOR ME! BUAHAHAHA

No this dream is at the complete opposite spectrum of dreaming.

Involving shit.

Now, when you read that, you had 1 of maybe 4 reactions:

1.  

2. 

3. 

4. 

^^^ I put option #4 because I immediately for some reason thought that that would be the reaction of Leslie.


I get it, why in the world would I tell you about a dream I had, that is obviously humiliating, and involving shit?  Because it was FUCKING HILARIOUS to me, that's why!!!

Plus you are all my family!

I adore you!

I want to share all of my embarrassments with you!

Also, my therapist tells me that you all must laugh with me so it's not just me being detrimental to myself!!

SO!!!!!!





For some reason in this dream, the glorious corporation of walmart had decided to implement some policy requiring the employees to give stool samples.

And I know, I should have known right then it was a dream...but come on...it's walmart, it's possible.

So I'm standing here and we're confused...what in the world?  We're supposed to what...shit in a cup for them?  OH NO they say, No no no, not here.  So what...go to a facility and try to shit in a cup? NO NO NO!  You are to go home, and collect your sample and bring it back to work for them to send off.

We were then given cups and sent home.  Well in my dream, when the big bang theory suddened upon me (As big bang theories often do) My cup had mysteriously vanished.  And I had to go...I mean, in my dream...I had to shit in the worst of ways.  And when I say in the worst of ways, it was in the worst of ways...like a midget at a concert in the 5th row needing platform shoes in the worst of ways.

I was tearing my house apart and it got to DEFCON 1 levels of needing to go, so in my dream I said "FUCK IT" grabbed a tupperware bowl, scooted to the bathroom and shit in it.

...do you guys realize I'm letting ALL of you read this blog post?  It's completely PUBLIC which means ANYONE and EVERYONE can see it, including the lady I REALLY fancy...I need to like...make myself look not so bat-shit crazy for a second




*starts singing* ♪♫Allll this shit could beeeee...paaaaaaaart ooof yourrrr wooooooorrrrrlllddddddd.♪♫

xD

BREAK TIME OVER!

So,  I'm looking at this epic shit snake in this big ass tupperware bowl and I'm thinking to myself "oh for fuck sake, that's too much..."  and contemplate trying to find a way to knock half of it in the toilet.  Then realize that if I do that, when I turn it in, some smart ass lab tech at "Check Yo' Shit Lab Incorporated" will go "DUDE this fucker cut the turd in half!  BUUAAHHAHHAHAHAAA"

So I put a lid on this monstrosity and put the tupperware bowl into a big brown paper sack.  I don't want it looking at me, and I don't want to accidentally look at it.

I start heading to where I'm supposed to take this abomination.  And in my dream I was pissed because these are new tupperware bowls...REALLY?? Of all the old ones I have that I can't quite get the kind of red sauced tint that's been microwaved into them off, I had to grab the pristine, crystal clear one and shit Thor's illegitimate child into it?

I'm honestly starting to think I threw Ariel into the mix a little too early...She won't be able to save me at this point lol.

The drawback to this, was it was like everyone got hit by the same shit bomb at the same time, so now there was standstill traffic (this was my brain assuming walmart actually had a legitimate sized staff that it'd cause a traffic jam..oh..you crazy brain you..)

I get stuck on the bridge by my house, and this thing was considered "unsafe" in the 2001 inspection...so my brain decides to go "WELL HEY it could collapse!"

BAM

Suddenly the bridge collapses in my dream and we're all in the lake, busting out of our cars and finding stuff to float on, now it's suddenly dusk and then DARK.

Rescue would take hours.

WHAT??  We're in the fucking CITY! SURROUNDED by apartments and complexes!!

No...RESCUE WOULD TAKE HOURS

It was then I realized that my brain decided to take it to new levels of horror by switching everyone out in the water with average joes.  Not my coworkers, but normal every day people.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, my giant ass tupperware bowl floats to the surface.

oh.my.god.

Someone jokes "Hey, dinner!"

"NO NO NO!" I swim towards it like a crazed maniac and grasp it and swim away.  Oh jesus, these people have NO idea what the hell is going on...oh GOD and I have now claimed the tupperware bowl as my property.  If they find out I SHIT in this giant tupperware bowl, I'm officially crazy.  SURE I could say it was for a stool sample, but WHY IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK is it in a giant tupperware bowl!!!

I know, I'll crack the lid, let it fill up with water...and it'll sink. taaadaaaa

crack the lid, it fills with water...sinks, the LID COMES OFF and up floats baby Thor.

Now keep in mind, I'm watching this from 3rd person.  While my little dream self is flipping the fuck out...I'm sitting on a little wooden raft about 10 feet away guffawing so hard I'm about to puke.

It's floating...of all the shits I've ever taken, and 1 in like 50 float...THIS one decides to FLOAT??  I get the brilliant idea...KNOCK IT INTO TINY PIECES!

So I did.

*more snorting and guffawing ensues...I then puke off the side of the raft and keep laughing*

Someone says "I found something I can light for light!"  and they set it on fire...someone says "Hey toss it to me, I found some wood I can light!"

They toss it, it misses, it lands in the water...on my chinese lantern procession of shit balls...and they ignite.

....my shit...is flammable??

People start swimming towards it, "HEY GRAB THOSE!!"

I then lost it and started just crying.

Other me proceeded to burst into higher levels of braying and laughing like a maniac.

I then woke up.





....If you made it that far...congratulations...you just read an Blog post about shit. hahaaa

Schism

A cross-post from OD. It was "Reader's Choice" and I think I finally feel like putting it in my more public blog.


I want to tell this boy it's alright.

There's a schism between his brain and heart. Spending the last few weeks hammering out your relationships to others and slowly realizing you were never the problem...you never were the problem when you tossed all the blame on yourself.

And then it hits...that thundering in your solar plexus, it makes you sick. Every fear you held on to, every lie you told yourself, every thing you did to tear yourself down and try to figure yourself out...it wasn't needed because it was never you that was the problem.

You tried. They didn't. The end.

If it were that simple the boy would be okay, but he doesn't realize that he's irreparably damaged...and it wasn't the others who damaged him the most...it was himself that did the most damage.

Being told you're not doing things right all your life and being made out to be an absolute fuck up, hear it long enough, and you become that...you become broken. Nothing you do is right, nothing you hear can change your mind otherwise. Even when you're doing it right, you don't think it's right.

You stop trusting people. You look for the hidden meanings in their words, yeah, they say you're a good person. yeah they say you are their friend. yeah, they say they like you...but why? what's the ulterior motive here? Where is the "but"...At what point do you let your guard down so they can attack you? One small fuck up for you becomes a raining down with fire, because they were right...you're a fuck up...you can't do anything right.

This boy walked out of a job because of it...simply because somebody said "it looks great, but not exactly what I was talking about."

Hate yourself enough, you become angry. You become angry enough, you become violent. You become violent, you realize this causes fear, and you fall into a niche...now they can't hurt you.

The day this boy walked away from the job, he sobbed and cried...had a panic attack and couldn't breathe...he felt 10 years old again and had been told how fucked up and wrong he was, that he'd never be able to do anything right and it all fell apart at once...first the hate, and then as he realized he was walking away from the one thing that he actually enjoyed doing, he became angry...by the time he reached the office to leave...the violence had manifested.

This boy broke windows, this boy caused people to run off in fear...and he felt invincible...they were scared, they couldn't hurt him anymore.

The problem with the people that try to tell you that you're okay is that they don't know what to do with a broken person. They wrap their arms around you like a large broken vase and try to hold the pieces together. My god do they try, and they love you so much and they try, but sometimes...holding an already broken vase together is just delaying the inevitable. The person who came to stop me loved me so much that they tried to keep the vase from shattering...wrapped their arms around me and tried to get me to stop, telling me I was okay and everything was okay.

Somebody who is broken, doesn't understand your words...especially if they're shattering to pieces...to them you're lying, you're humoring them, you're just trying to smooth things over until you can shatter them again. This boy broke to pieces and snapped, throwing punches and attacked the one person that wasn't afraid to try and stop him from shattering. And the other person god bless them...didn't stop. They didn't become afraid and run, they tried harder to keep him from shattering.

It didn't work.

This boy went through relationships where everything was happy on the outside, and for the most part on the inside...but deep down, he was constantly in fear. They were lying, they were secretly hating him. The last relationship this boy was in, he was absolutely convinced the one person that loved him was ashamed of him...and he hated that person for it. Was it true? Who knows...he never asked, he never brought it up...but he was so convinced of it...that it was true to him. He would never be good enough for this person, he would never do it right, and because of that, this person was ashamed of him and would never fully love him.

And then she walked away.

And he knew he was right. He could never be good enough for anyone, he wouldn't ever be able to do it right. He resigned himself to self loathing and started to crack...a broken person can continue to be broken, whether they know it or not...they can continue to be crushed and broken even when they don't think it's possible anymore. Little cracks all around, and one day...he shattered.

He fell to pieces all over the place and this time there was nobody to run up and try to keep him from shattering. Forever he walked around...completely broken. Surviving day to day with pieces of himself missing...convinced that this is just how it's going to be. He'd see all these pieces of himself lying around but was so broken he didn't understand why he should even try to put himself back together again...he'd just break again...

And then the unthinkable happened, somebody picked up a little piece of him and handed it back to him. And it wasn't a big piece...it was a very, very tiny...miniscule piece of himself. A piece even he didn't even see laying there...constantly overlooked a tiny piece of him. Then they picked up another piece, and another, and handed them back to him. They never tried to hold him together, they simply picked up pieces here and there, and handed them back to him...each one with a smile. There was no disappointment there that this boy had shattered, there was no look of aggravation that they were standing there picking up pieces of this boy...they were just happy to be handing this boy pieces of himself back.

The boy smiled. A real smile. Not a smile that you flash as a defense mechanism to keep things smooth...it was a real smile. It felt so weird to him, it felt so foreign that he was convinced he looked stupid as hell...but he couldn't help it...he couldn't make it go away.

then the schism happened. Don't trust this. There's an ulterior motive to this...you're being put back together to be dropped from the highest point again...to be shattered.

And then came the day the boy finally had to say "Stop". The thoughts will always be there...the important thing to remember is whether you listen to them or not. It's so hard not to listen to them when they're the loudest voice in your head...but the boy said stop...and he's trying so hard.

There's still very large pieces missing out of this boy, and they're scattered all across the ground. He's still broken, but bit by tiny bit, he's being put back together. He's having pieces handed back to him one by one, and he's replacing them where they should go. One day this boy will be whole...and he'll be happy.

There will always be visible cracks where he was put back together, but that's how life is...we all crack. We all break. We put ourselves back together and we break again. Some people hold us together and cause us more harm than just letting us shatter. Some come along when we least expect it and start picking us back up again...and even when you don't trust it at first...they continue to hand you pieces of yourself back again...
Then you trust them.

One day, this boy will be back together. And that puts a very big smile on my face....So I want to tell this boy that it's alright, you'll be okay...even though you don't fully see it yet...you will be okay.

there's going to be a small schism there forever, it just will be...that was a very large crack created your entire life...your way now is to bridge the gap...you will always wonder and worry and not understand why...but you must believe in yourself and know you will be okay.

Because there's someone that loves you enough that they'll pick up little tiny pieces of you and hand them back to you, and they don't care...they're just happy to see you smile.

You'll be okay there, you'll be okay one day...

Why I hate living in the South in Winter.

I live in the south.  I don't mind it for the most part, except winter.

All summer long, I hear about how "hot" it is, and "oh god, the HUMIDITY!!" and this is always followed by the biggest LIE in the history of the South "Man I wish it would just be winter, I want SNOW!"

The truth is, they don't want snow, they're terrified of snow.  All Summer they pray to the snow god to visit and when there's a flurry suddenly drifting towards Earth, they freak out harder than Chris Angel's unsuspecting audiences on Mind Freak.

I am amazed by it.  In fact, we got a slight dusting of snow two days ago.  I literally fell to my knees and yelled "NOOOO" in the middle of work, because I KNEW what was about to happen:

1. Panic
2. Hoarding
3. EVERYONE needing to leave work before "The Roads get BAD!"

IT.WAS.FLURRIES!

Let me paint a perspective using two states...my state:

And then we'll compare it to a state that is no stranger to snow...

There's an entirely different mindset when these two states see the first snowflake.

Raddies:

 

Arkabillies:

I'm not saying there's anything WRONG with having a little fear with snow; it can cause power outages and all sorts of nasty stuff.
But with FLURRIES and you have rednecks acting like if it touches their VEHICLE that the apocalypse of fire and carnage will rain down upon them...and then they swerve off the slightly wet road into the trees...you have a problem.

Let's look at snapshots of the normal snow day here...

Here we have an Arkabilly who is so distraught over the absolutely non-existent snow outside (and to a worse extent the local news just PLAYING it up) that he has decided to end himself rather than deal with the end of days.

And here, we have an average snow day for a Raddie:

Everyone asks me "WHY do you hate snow, SO MUCH!!"

I don't hate snow!  I hate snow here!!!  It's gotten to the point, that if one more Arkabilly shrieks at me "Have you prepared for the coming snow storm??"

...I swear to God, I'm going to taser them.  I will search the internet until I find one SO illegal that it has to have some whimsical name and description, that you won't feel so bad about electrocuting the piss out of them.

^ That should do it.

They will either quickly learn of my Southern snow hating wrath, or they'll die and not have to worry about the "Snowpocalypse"

I'm serious...our local news channel on Facebook has an album dedicated to the day before yesterday called "The December Snow Event" and wants people to send in photos of "The Event"...they're first...

Don't WORRY, I'll give at least ONE verbal warning before I turn your skull into a disco ball...if you don't heed the warning though...

I mean...I know it'll never happen...so for the rest of Winter, if you see a miniature human in a store during a "snow event" who has thoughts of tasering the customer he's trying to help...be gentle, just know he's fed up with it.

If I wanted to deal with people freaking out with apocalyptic amounts of snow...I would have MOVED to Colorado in 2007 when I had the chance, or I'd still be living in Virgina. 

AT LEAST THEN when the snow was said to be coming, you knew you were going to sleep that night with a house and waking up in a snow drift.

...I need to get out of this state...