I.P. Freely

I go into the ladies room today (TMI I know), and I am about to do my business and there is pee on the seat. Pee.

Now, ladies generally squat, sit or what have you. We don't stand up and have to aim like the fellas. There should not be pee up in the middle of the ring, right in butt-cheek reaching vicinity. Not to mention, right behind this little yellow puddle and on the wall behind the toilet is a FULL dispenser of TOILET SEAT COVERS. You know, those papery shaped things with the cut out to place over the toilet seat so you don't PEE ON THE SEAT.

Not only that, but if you realize you are having a more splashy day while nature calls, you could WIPE YOUR OWN SEAT after. Clean up your damn mess. Seriously. I believe that in maybe Kindergarten you learn some basic necessities in life, and cleaning up your own bathroom messes should be one of them.

Disgusting.

And here I thought we were the "Classier" sex.

Welcome to Where Ever You Are

Sometimes you just want to bitch. Moan, whine and over all complain about everything and anything.

Sure you could call a girlfriend, a trusted confidant and just let 'er rip. But really, who wants to be on the tail end of that conversation as your 100 mile an hour thoughts race from mind to mouth before you even have the chance to realize whatever the hell it is you're saying.

*I tend to do that a lot. The whole "Speak Without Thinking" thing. Not always a good habit to have.*

And then I thought, "Hey! I can write about the stuff in my life that's happening. I can put it down without names to faces and no one will get hurt! No one will be there on the other end of the phone, rolling their eyes and my lunacy!"

Damn sometimes I am ever grateful for the Internet.

So that's it. My purpose. My Mission Statement if you will.

Me, uncensored.

You've been warned.