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I am neurotic, but at least I get in singing practice. April 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 10:14 pm
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Oh hey!

I believe I’ve previously mentioned the horrors of the bathroom at Nemo’s office building. However, I’ve never gone into the full terror of simply having to pee.

First, I must come to terms that I really really need to go the the bathroom. This is a burden in and of itself, being as I generally dislike visiting this particular bathroom. After I decide I need to pee, I tell Nemo I’m going to be in his evil bathroom. The ulterior motive for this is so he doesn’t think I ran away or something, but mostly it’s because if I get eaten by zombies I want someone to find my body.

I then put on my shoes if they aren’t on already (I don’t really like shoes, but bathrooms are generally filthy), and make the trek out of his room and down the office, past the main receptionist desk, and out the door.

Nemo’s company’s office is one of many in a large building, but fortunately, their office is close to the women’s bathroom. So I walk to the bathroom and tentatively open the door. Once I’ve made sure there are no robots/zombies/serial killers/Death Eaters/Cylons in any of the stalls, I go in the second stall from the right. I don’t know why I always go in this one, but I do.

I lock the door and sit down on the toilet. Well, I mean, I pull down my pants and stuff, but let’s not get into the details. I then proceed to pee, hoping against hope the demon toilet won’t automatically flush while I’m still sitting on it.

Lately, I’ve started singing while I pee in that particular bathroom because it makes the whole place seem a lot less scary. You might think that I’d be worried someone would walk in while I was singing a robot love song, but no one ever uses the bathroom. Despite the large number of women in the entire building, I hardly ever see anyone in there, which is partly what makes is so creepy. Why am I the only one ever in there? It’s one of the mysteries of life, I’m pretty sure.

So I finish peeing, pull up my pants, and almost have an an aneurysm when the demon toilet auto-flushes. It makes this creepy whirring, screaming, whooshing noise right before it flushes, which always makes it sound like some sort of robot axe-murdering assassin is jumping over the side of the stall to murder me. I get over my heart attack and shakily open the door. I glance around to secure my safety and bolt over to the sink. I end up kind of wedged by the wall, because I don’t want to turn my back on the openness of the bathroom. I mean, of course there’s a mirror, but you can’t see vampires in the mirror. Yeah.

I then, back against the wall, wash my hands in the automatic sink and get a squirt of automatically dispensing soap. The auto-soap dispenser makes a freaky noise at the back of the bathroom by the toilets, which logically leads me to believe a basilisk is coming out of the toilet. I turn around, back still to the wall, and contort myself to get a towel from the automatic frakking paper towel dispenser. Chances are you’ve encountered one of these, and you’ll know that they make pretty scary noises too. I towel off my hands quickly and edge my way over to the door, still singing.

I use the old paper towels to open the door, because seriously? Do you know all the freaking germs that are on those handles? I prop the door up with my butt and try to toss the paper towels into the trash can. I usually miss, which means that I have to go pick them up and put them in the trash can, which solves the littering problem but doesn’t help the germ problem.

By now, I’m so freaked out that I just open the door with my bare hands and freaking sprint back to the office in case any invisible zombies followed me. Usually, this is the end of my adventure, but today I got locked out of the office, which means that I have to pound on the heavy wooden door and yell desperately until some savior comes and lets me into the office, because I’ve forgotten the password for the weird alarm thingy again, although I’m pretty sure it has a five and a three in it.

I get rescued and learn that the code doesn’t have a three in it, and then I blog about it.

Awesome: Not getting eaten by bathroom monsters!

Unawesome: Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, I’m in a hurry and I don’t have any time to look over this post.


Pirates are scurvy, jolly vegetable robots. That was an attempt to sum up this post. Didn’t quite work. April 12, 2010

Oh hey! New e-mail from Darren W. Kappes (by the way, Darren, if you don’t want me whoring out your e-mails for subject matter, I won’t):

My favorite ride at Disneyland is the pirates of the Caribbean.  But just before you dive down.
Near the restaurant. So peaceful.

Deadman tell no tales is funny.  Because there is a Dedman school of
law in Dallas.  I like to tell people who go there that they tell no

The lyrics they play in the ride are terrible.  Do you know what they
are saying?  It’s awful, and they are jolly about it.

I’m all for jolliness (jollyness sounds more right, but Spellcheck says no), but pirates are sort of barbaric. And scurvy. It’s like Natalie Dee says: don’t get scurvy. Teamninja.

Then Nemo e-mailed me with this:

What is Kara Thrace’s favorite vegetable?

Ahahahaha. That is totally offensive freaking hilarious. I mean, I love Anders, but that is funny.

Awesome: *teehee* Vegetable… geddit?

Unawesome: I kind of have too pee pretty bad, but I’m at Nemo’s office and the bathroom here is frakking terrifying.

Scary: The fact that the wind is blowing so hard (that’swhatshesaid) that the flagpoles outside are swaying.

Also scary: Nemo’s bathroom.

Disturbing: My fear/respect relationship with robots. They’re gonna kill us all, but they’re pretty cool.

Also even more disturbing: The amount of half-naked Gaius Baltar in Battlestar. I love you, Battlestar, but no. No no no. Not ever.