10 September 2011

Sticky, Sticky, Sticky

Felt like crap Friday morning. Went to the job any way. I get paid as long as I can get myself through the sawmill gates, even if I spend most of my shift on the sawmill shitter.

I visited the sawmill shitter so many times I learned a few things about it. The seat is sticky as fuck, like somebody had smeared chocolate do-nuts on it since the last time the janitor had been by.

In the mid-afternoon I went for my last shit of the day. I was stuck there, on the verge of vomiting when it happened. Earthquake! Fuck! The sawmill was shaking like Jerry Lee Lewis in 1956. I would have fallen off the sawmill shitter except my ass was welded to it by all the stickiness of my brothers' sweaty sawmill asses.

My only thought, as the world shook uncontrollably around me, was, "Don't let me die on the sawmill shitter!"


RossK said...

Darn it all anyway Beer..

Now look what your damnable words have done.


ib said...

I would not want to die on the swamill shitter either - or any other - like Elvis taken short.

Our household lavatory sees a lot of action, between us and the three older kids. The other day I went in there to take a piss. I lifted the seat and there was this huge turd half in and out the water, partially shrouded in toilet paper. It would not flush. It was too big; a chainsaw might have lopped it down into manageable pieces, but I was not for putting my hand in there.

"Jesus Christ!" I gagged. "Who the hell was last in here ?"

The infuriating thing was that nobody would own up to it. I raged and ranted like an idiot. My wife told me to calm the f@ck down.

Nobody would take the bait. We have not raised any George Washingtons in our little family.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

It's a hit! We were singing your Beer song around the campfire last night. We may not have got all the words right except for "sawmill shitter."

RossK said...

Glad to hear it Beer!

Send me an Email at:

pacificgazette at yahoo dot canuck short form

...and I'll send you a tab sheet.