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Guest ShakaZulu

ShakaZulu!

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Guest Agent of Oblivion
There's a truck route bypass south of my house that I would jog along every morning in the summer. I've never seen so many urine bottles in my life as I did on that shoulder of the road, and I hope I never will. There's all sorts of really strange garbage along that road. Sometimes, the environmentalist in me wanted to clean up the shoulder of that road, but then I saw a pair of shit-stained underpants and thought "you know what? I haven't been convicted of possession yet, so this isn't my problem." And move along I did. I was listening to Rain Dogs.

 

Truckers are fucked up. The truck lot at the warehouse has all kinds of weird shit there left behind by them, but that's for my Warehouse thread.

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I'm currently typing on a fresh keyboard, as I awoke to find a mysterious liquid all over my old one. Well, less mysterious now the smell has installed itself properly at my desk. This kind of thing happened a couple of years ago with a drawer full of clothes, then an amplifier. They survived though. I'm such a drunken twat.

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Enlarged prostate.

 

Nope, I had a prostate exam. Which was a huge mistake.

 

If I ever have another similar situation, I'm going to just risk prostate cancer rather than having another prostate exam.

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