Dipshit bottoms out

This is the story of how my Monday began. After putting feet to floor and moving toward, as always, the lifeline that is the stove and my tea kettle, I staggered to the toilet to unburden my bladder. I don't want to waste TOO much time on this, but not only do I need to vent about it, but I also need to prove, once and for all, that I'm NOT some nitpicking ninny who exaggerates the ENDLESS aggravation that IS Dipshit. And I don't know that there's a better example than this of his COMPLETE stupidity and lack of social graces, how he really MAY be retarded in some way. And here it is. I warn you...it's not pretty. Put down that chocolate chip cookie...

There was a chunk of shit on the toilet seat.

I know, I know...it CAN'T be true, Gary!? But it is. Gather yourselves. Find the strength to read on. This wasn't the tiny specs of ass/toilet paper lint I've blogged on before. This was A CHUNK OF SHIT. I was already annoyed to see the toilet seat down before I turned on the light. But light would reveal an even more awful truth...a chocolate colored chunk marring the beauty of my beige toilet seat. It was situated in the 10 O'Clock position. I couldn't believe it. It was one of those times when you KNOW what you're seeing is what you're seeing, yet you frantically seek to delude yourself into other plausible possibilities. To no avail.

Now let's define CHUNK. After I quickly shoved the hardened piece o'load into its rightful watery grave, I stared at it, instantly knowing I'd be blogging on it, and needing to define exactly how large it was. I wanted to say DIME-sized...but not quite. Finally, it dawned on me; it was EXACTLY the size of an eraser at the end of a pencil. So maybe CHUNK oversells it a bit...but maybe not. I mentioned a chocolate chip cookie earlier...yeah, it kinda looked JUST like that. And isn't CHUNK in the name of some of those cookies?

The bottom line (have you noted my usage of "bottom" puns?) is that a shard of DipSHIT was inexplicably and inexcusably lodged on my fucking toilet seat. Is his anal cavity somehow in his right buttock? Because that's where it'd have to be to dislodge a chunk of shit where it landed. I. JUST. DON'T. UNDERSTAND. But however it got there (and my mind wanders with hilarious & disturbing scenarios), it does NOT explain -- AS I HAVE STATED MANY TIMES BEFORE -- his thoroughly pathetic lack of self-awareness. It is STAGGERING. In layman's terms...HE DIDN'T FUCKING NOTICE THE CHUNK OF HIS FECES STUCK TO THE SEAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? The one I had to wipe off with a wad of toilet paper, before saturating the seat with lysol?!?!?!? Even a cursory glance would've detected the CHOCOLATE BLOB on the BEIGE seat. Is he FUCKING BLIND?!?!? I yearned to be hosed down like Karen Silkwood before I left the premises. I beg of you, readers, have ANY of you ever come upon a CHUNK OF SHIT affixed to your toilet seat? THIS is the caliber of stupidity I'm dealing with. And that is how my Monday began. I'm happy to report it didn't ruin my day. I think i'm numb...I just try to go to my Happy Place and tune him out. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. Today it somehow worked, despite this most criminal offense.