Tommy

Dude! My parents are in the room! Later, though.

...hey. I hope that you are not upset about the post I made in your thread recently. It was just something that I felt was wrong and wanted to get off my chest. Not trying to start any beef or anything.

I don't even like writing book reports, no way.

No, hey, I'm Tommy. I've been here a little while, but mostly just lurked. I like wrestling (duh!), Metallica (old stuff), South Park, and pretty much just hanging out and having fun and stuff. I just got back from Space Camp the other day. I'll tell you guys about it once stuff calms down around here. This place is weird right now.

I already talked about this in another thread, but I just wanted to talk about this here so you don't think I'm just talking behind your back, okay F You Mike? I think this is a totally not a good idea for a thread, and it's really racist and offensive. I mean, that's like the most offenisve word in the English language. You don't get more offensive than the N word, so to start a thread called that is just really offensive and uncool. And I'm not even black, and I don't even really think you have to be to think that that word is offensive. So you know, just if a mod could close this thread, I think that would be the best thing. Let's try to put this behind us.

I dunno what's going on around here with all of these new threads. Hey, look, I know it's a free country and your free speech is protected by the first amendment. That's cool. I get it. But starting a thread called just isn't cool, okay guys? And I'm not even black, but it's just totally offensive and you shouldn't do it. Anyway, who would even respond in a thread called that? You're not even going to get any responses, so what's the point? All your doing is making yourself look ignorant. So let's all just try to keep our cool here and stop making all of these stupid/weird threads, okay?

Hey, guys. What'd I miss?

Hey, how y'all doing? Name's Dudley, and I'm a foreman at a Toyota factory down here in Kentucky. What I want to talk about here is a guy you all know as bigolsmitty, but who I know as Smit Smitkowitz, my damn deadbeat stepson. Ever since I met his mother, Smit and me have never got on too good. Ain't nobody's fault, really. We just don't see eye to eye on too much, you know? Since he moved out, it ain't really been too much of a problem: I don't talk to him, he don't talk to me, and we get along just fine. But when those ice storms blew through here couple months ago, Smit's power got knocked clean out for a couple weeks and he had to come stay here with me and his mother. No big deal, right? He's family, so I didn't have no big problem with it. Not sure if Smit's never shown you all any pictures of him, but he's balder than a baby's ass, okay? This ain't no accident. The son of a bitch--excuse my language--would be in the bathroom shaving his head a couple times a day. And damned if he didn't leave all that shaving cream and stubble drying in the sink. Think he'd lift a finger to clean it up? Nah, not Smit. In fact, the only thing I ever saw him do in two damn weeks was sit on the couch watching C-SPAN and looking at titty movies on his laptop. Oh, and eat. Pardon my French, but goddamn. That guy could eat like a damn bull elephant. Every time I put something in the fridge, it was gone 20 minutes later. He'd throw it in a sandwich, and go right back to watching his C-SPAN and looking at his titty movies. So one night me and Smit's mother went out to see a movie. We had both been big fans of King of Queens and enjoyed the actor Kevin James, so we figured we'd go see that Mall Cop he was in. Smit didn't want to go and I didn't want to pay for him, on account of all the money I was losing on feeding his lazy ass--excuse my language. My wife asks me if I want to grab something to eat while we're out, but I figure I'll just warm up some Hot Pockets when we get home--we do okay on money and everything, but I don't see no sense in paying for a hamburger when I got some perfectly good food back at the house. We step through the door and the whole damn place smells like Willie Nelson's beard, okay? There's smoke everywhere. I walk out to the living room to find Smit higher than giraffe pussy--pardon my language--and looking at his titty movies and blaring his damn C-SPAN. I notice that he's got pepperoni pizza Hot Pocket shit all over his face and hands. I would have put the guy through a damn wall if his mother hadn't been there. I had to run out to Arby's to get something to eat and to cool off a little. I didn't say two words to the bastard the rest of the time he was in my house. I've had prostate infections I'd sooner welcome back. Smit, you're a bald bastard and a damn terrible stepson. I hate you.

You're an ugly bastard and a damn terrible stepson.

Been thinking about buying me a hunting knife. Can't get out there hunting too regular on account of my work, so I just want kind of a cheapo job that'll kill this one thing that I need to get killed and then I may or may not use it again. But I've been checking these brochures and looking up on the internet whenever I get a chance, and there's s'many damn options I don't know if I'm coming or going. To make it real simple, the thing I need to get killed is about 5 1/2 feet long and probably 170-180 pounds, and I need it to die pretty quick and without making too much of a mess. Any suggestions? Should I go with a fixed or folded blade? I'm thinking fixed, because I reckon this is all gonna happen pretty quick and I don't want to be fumbling around with no switchblade. Clip point or drop point? Maybe a nice little gut hook on there. Any information y'all can give me would be much appreciated.

A few confessions, since I'm on my way out the door anyhow: 1. I never much cared for the majority of the coloreds here. Although I did once look for Ripper on a run I made to Atlanta few years back. I heard through the grapevine that the guy was hung like a barnacle, so I brought a girl I was seeing along with me. Thought I might watch 'em go at it. Never did materialize, though. 2. I've always found Taigastar pretty attractive, to tell you the truth. Nice calves. Looks strong in the wrist.

I gotta be honest with y'all, I didn't think this day would ever come. Time was, I used to pass the hours in my rig by downing fistfuls of Yellowjackets and thinking of crazy shit to post here. Some of my best shit was come up with on those trips, like "Favorite Truck Stop Bathroom Graffiti" and "Post a Picture of Your Beard." But it just ain't the same no more, you know what I mean? I feel like after however many years, I've come to some sort of stagnation as to who Shit Shower and Shave is. And to be frank, I don't find this place nowhere near as in'ellectually stimulatin or as creatively rich as I use to. Seems like it's just a buncha teenagers calling each other fags half the time nowadays. So it's been fun, y'all. I'm going to always remember the good times I had here. Maybe I'll come back sometime, but I doubt it. Peace, Shit Shower and Shave

Lot of y'all ain't taking this seriously, but I think I'm gonna go for it this year. Recession's been tough on us rig drivers, and I reckon I could probably use some of that good old fashioned Jesus in my life. Tell you what: Sometimes the only thing that keeps me from drivin' that sumbitch across the median and into oncoming traffic is the promise of being able to rub one out when I'm in line at a weigh station. But I'd be willing to give that up for a week or however long this shit lasts, if it means I'll be getting into heaven. There are plenty of things I can do instead of jerking off, I guess. I could take up Sudoku. I could cut myself.