In the beginning...

...There was a lonely college student who had too much time on his hands.

I've always hated blogs, honestly. Just what the world needs is a portal for people to anonymously post their bias ideals, or about how Christy looked at my boyfriend the wrong way, how dare she! She's a skanky bitch and if she pulls that again, I'll gouge out her eyes with a soup spoon. (Whoever you are, check you insecurities.)

So why am I doing this, even though it's something I hate?

I'm an aspiring writer, and this is a great way to exercise my trade. On the same token, I can get it out to masses and see what they think.

Now that the boring introductory shit is over, let me post something of significance that I wrote in my offline journal awhile ago.

Manly bathroom etiquette. There’s a one-urinal rule. Always leave a urinal between you and the guy next to you, no one wants to see your dick nor do you want to see theirs. IF you’re at a crowded event like a metal concert, and you have to be right next to someone, you keep your eyes on your own junk. And IF, by some rabid accidental eyeball wandering situation, you see another man’s dick, your mind IS NOT allowed to go any further than “damn, I saw a dick”. When someone is in a stall and is wrestling with a monstrous shit, if they are farting loudly, you must not laugh at them. They are locked in a deadly combat and are not subject to ridicule. If you still laugh at fart noises, maybe you need to paste some pubes on yourself and pretend to be more grown up. You do not smile in the men’s room, there is nothing funny going on in there. It is a place of business, not fun. You have ten seconds to wash your hands and move on, you do not look at yourself in the mirror. You have somewhere more important to be. You are allowed ONE squeeze of soap because you do not want your hands to smell fruity OR like shitty gas station soap. You do, however, have permission to use up to 10 sheets of paper towels because men are messy and wasteful.