Concert Part 1

Ok fuckbags, I'm finally am sober enough here to tell you about the Dutchess' concert adventure. It all starts in the bathroom. Oh shut the fuck up, and keep reading douche face!

It takes about 1/2 an hour to get to the Summerfest grounds from here. In Dutchess time that is long enough to drink 2-3 beers. However, everyone and their goddamn concubine must have wanted to see the Sexy Tim McGraw, so it took over an hour. Dutchess time? a six pack. Helloooo beer buzz!

Obviously, by the time we got to the concert, I had to pee like a racehorse. I tell the Duke to get me a t-shirt, and I was headed to the john. 30 motherfucking minutes later, I emerge from the john looking pissed off and frazzled. Duke Dumbass says, "What took you so long?".

I tell you, if looks could turn you to stone, the Duke would be bird shit target practice right now. I say you wanna know what took so long?" Well, blame my fucking Mother, ass clown!

That/s right people, my mother was a fanatic about public toilets.

As a little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Yes toilet paper, butt munch, this was before antibacterial anything. Then, she'd carefully show me how to lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd say, "Never, never sit on a public toilet seat. You never know what gawd-awful diseases you'll catch!"

After that, she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consists of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your fleshy ass and thighs make contact with the toilet seat. But by the time she did all of this shit, I'd have pissed down my leg and we would go home.

" The Stance" is tricky enough to maneuver while drunk, and is excruciatingly fucking difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full too.

But, anyway. I went into the bathroom. Why is it when I have to piss in a public bathroom, there is ALWAYS a line of women that makes me think WTF! Is there's a half-price sale on Jimmy fucking Choo's in there?! The answer is always no.

I was forced to wait and sneer menacingly smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely. Finally, I got closer. Holy mother of all things beer-a-licious, I have to pee!! I start checking for feet under the stall doors in hopes there is one open now. Nope! Every goddamn one is occupied.

Finally, a stall door opens and I bolt in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. (BTW, sorry, bitch in kick ass pink flip flops. I had to go!) I get into the stall and . Sweet relief is coming soon, but,....... awww fuuuuuck!

The motherfucking door won't lock. Well, too fucking bad, because if I don't piss right now, bad things are going to start to happen. So, I hang my purse on the door hook, yank down my pants and assume "The Stance." Relief..... More relief.....ahhhhh...

Then my thighs began to shake. I'd love to sit down but, but I didn't take the time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so I gotta hold "The Stance". My thighs are now quaking hard enough to register an eight on the goddamn Richter scale.

To take my mind off my shaking thunder thighs, I reach for the toilet paper. DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!!!!! The motherfucking toilet paper dispenser is empty. My thighs are going to give out.

About then, I remember the tiny tissue that I blew my nose on earlier. I hope I fucking shoved it in my purse.,,, SCORE! It's in there!!! I try and crumble it in the puffiest way possible, but the fucking thing is still smaller than my damn thumbnail.

About then, someone pushes open the stall door because the motherfucking lock doesn't work and my purse whams me in the head. (fucking Coach bag..I knew I should have bought the smaller one).

I scream, "WHOAAA...STOP......OCCUPODO... I'M IN HERE BITCH!" But, as I reach out to slam the door, I dropped the goddamn tiny tissue in a puddle on the floor. As if on cue, my goddamn thighs give way and I fall backward... directly onto the toilet seat.

Oh hell to the no! I sprang up, but it was too late. My royal bare ass made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare fucking seat because I never laid down the goddamn toilet paper. Not that there even was any toilet paper, even if I would have had enough time to use it.

I can hear my goddamn Mother in my head saying "I told you so, dumbass! Now you don't know what kind of gawd-awful diseases you are going to get."

By now, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused with my up and down moves, that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain, right. up. my. ass. Seconds after that, it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that I grabbed onto the toilet paper dispenser because I was sure that fucker was going to suck me in too.

At this point, I give the hell up. My ass is craptastically soaked by the splashing toilet water, I'm fucking exhausted, and I'm desperate. I try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper I found in my pocket.

I decide to try and slink over, inconspicuously, to the sinks. Fuck me, I can't figure out how to operate the automatic sensors, so I spit on my hands and wipe them with a dry paper towel.

I walk past the line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point. One kind soul at the very end of the line grabs me and whispers that I have something on my shoe. Fanfuckingtastic. It's a piece of toilet paper as long as the Missi-fucking-ssippi River!

My six pack buzz has worn off, I swear I hear god laughing his ass off, and I'm at my breaking point. I yank the paper from my shoe, shove it in the woman's hand and say "Thanks. Here you go bitch, you might need this."

I walk over to Duke Dumbass, who, while waiting, has bought my t-shirt, ate a brat, drank a beer, and was now on the second chapter of The Full History of NASCAR. "What took you so damn long?" he asked?

That? Is when I kicked him in the fucking nuts.

Now excuse me while I get drunk and hop around the blogosphere for a post ordered by my skanky sister,The Queen