hmmm never ending?

So its been about a year since my last post and ive decided a couple of things.
1, I have to figure out how to remove the dates on these posts.
2, purhaps i should 'edit' my first post about this being a never ending rant.
and 3, i have lost complete respect for the theory of evolution, and im an athiest...

Think about that last statement.

no really, read it again and think for a second.

So now how do i explain life on this planet? I have a solution and it makes evolution seem more accurate.
We need to systematically start killing off people.

I say sytematically because its more efficient and lets face it, not includeing people of such religious faith that they will defend creationism with their dying breath, there are a lot of people who simply disprove the theory. A lot of people, probably half the human race.

We need to elimate these people.

I will give you an example.
This week it was rainy. All Week. I felt like i was living in England.
Everyday there was a 60% plus chance for rain of some amount or another. Thats a damn good chance. It means that in the last 100 times conditions that are equal to the currently projected conditions, it rained 60 or more times.

For those of you who need me to tell u thats more then half the time please stop reading this blog, unplug your computer and tie the cord around your waist. climb to the roof and throw yourself off.

Soooo anyway its been rainy. Today I watched a painter look outside, see there was a pause in the storm ( I say pause because the sky was still dark enough for me to think it was night), wipe the outside door clean and paint it....

and then the rain started again.

BANG!

Discouraging Inbreeding.

Now under normal circumstances I appall country music and avoid it at every possible turn. Unfortunently for me 'normal circumstances' are rather infrequent. Basically my life is one unending streak of unluckyness.
In this case I have found myself the part of a car pool who make me want to bang my sister... if I had a sister that is. Let me elaborate.

Since fuel costs haven jumped in the past month I have started to car pool with a few people. Two guys have cars that get signifigantly better millage then mine. As such when they drive they choose the music. And one of the two seems to prefer ... country music.

Oh yeah...
What was I saying about if not for bad luck, Id have none at all?!?!?!

OK, believe it or not, I can tolerate a little country if I have something to gain from it and have some sort of distraction. In this case I usually read or sleep. with ear plugs in either way. Note to self, buy more earplugs.... or better car.

So there are these two older guys I work with. I say older meaning older then me. No sterio typing here people... yeah, I couldn't even type that with a straight face.

So these two older guys. One has such a variety of music tastes its almost laughable but almost all of it could be considered some kind of Rock. Personally I'm fine with that. I don't even mind it so much if a famed hard rock band decides to record a few "rap" songs.

But when someone crosses that line into country, they deserve to be drug out into the street and shot.

and burned...

and trampled...

and or run over a "few" times

then backed over again for good measure and the remains incinerated.

Please people. What is it that is so fascinating about this genera? Because almost all of it makes me want to poke out my ear drugs with a kobob roasting stick. MMM tasty ear drums.

Land Rover vs Snow

So its been a while since my last post. Stupid internet virus issues. But since its back up for the time being I figured Id take the time to make a little update.

Today I was driving home from work when I noticed all the vehicles off the road seemed to be higher end SUVs. Did I forget to mention that its snowing like a blizzard out today? Yeah, about that. Lets back up.

So as most of you know I am a construction worker. I work for a moderately sized company thats been around for about 60 years and unfortunently still doesn't seem to know what they are doing.

Its the type of company that hears there is going to be the snow storm of the year a week in advance but doesn't bother to cancel the work day (even though the rest of the state has) untill about 9:00. Then they send everyone home...

Yeah. So now instead of just driving TO work in bad weather, we get to turn around and come home after about 2 hours of work and deal with all the other idiots on the road once again. I love my job, (cc. this is why I drink).

Where was I, ah yes. High end SUVs. Now I drive a 90 Jeep who's engion is about to explode and has no 4 wheel drive anymore. Its a pimpin ride. You know, check the gas and fill the oil daily type. Oh yeah baby.

Anyway, Somehow I end up being one of the only people in an SUV who knows how to drive in bad weather. In the 2 and a half hour commute home, Please note its not that long because of the weather, its because of the other drivers, I saw 11, yes thats right 11 cars off the road.

2 mini vans
1 pickup (with a plow no less... moron)
2 small cars, grand am and the like
and 6 SUVs.

Not just Jeeps like mine, in fact I don't recal a single one except the new liberty style. No they were almost all Tahos or Expiditions or my personal favorite; a land rover.

People, If you can't drive a freakin land rover with just a few inches of snow and slush on the ground then you don't deserve to be behind the wheel. EVER.
Whats the old Land Rover modo; the ultimate land vehicle or something like that? Yeah, these things are like tanks and some woman has lost control getting ON the interstate and ended up in the median, on its side.

You fail at life. Turn in your licence, and stay the hell off the road so people who KNOW how to drive can get where their going without worrying your going to crash into one of us.

It never Rains in the South of Spain, Travel woes vol. 3

Vacations are great but there are a few things that will ruin anyones vacation.

Running out of money.

Running out of Alcohol.

Meeting an Ex with whom you did not part on such good terms.

Yeah, all of those can suck but I was thinking more along the lines of Rain. Unless of course your on your honeymoon and don't plan on leaving the hotel anyhow. But typically speaking rain does a good vacation in. Thats why we chose to go somewhere it almost never rains.

Spain has 2 months of rain season and not one of them is in November unless of course I plan a vacation. You can see where Im going at this point I hope. If not please step outside and play in traffic.

How does Sixtysix liters of rain per cubic meter sound? Yeah, thats a lot. Its not just a lot, its more rain then has ever fallen in Spain over the past 50 years. Just my luck huh.

So not only did we spend 4 hours on a bus to go to Sevilla for the day but it also rained the entire time. So yeah, our time in the city was not so much well spent.

Our tour guides thought to remedy this with a bus tour around the city that would keep us all dry except they didn't count on the swarm of construction taking place throughout the city. They really weren't kidding when they said the nation bird of Spain is the crane. Yeah, the tower crane.

Let me sum up what we saw:

On your left is a park, it is one of the largest in the country, directly across from the park are the pavilions constructed by many nations for (well I wasn't really listening to why they were built, maybe somekind of world fair, but I didn't really care) (cc: was too busy draining my flask to care). Across from that is the old queens palace, and there are some more of these pavilions. On our way to the cathedral now theres umm. Well we need to find another way to the cathedral, heres that park again and the palace. Onyour right are some pavilions. Thats the famous gold tour across from the park. And one more time is the palace and oh look more pavilions. (I really need to invest in a bigger flask).

After all this they fed us an amazing lunch. The food was good and the wine didn't stop flowing which made it all the better. And then back on the bus for another 4 hours back to the hotel. Oh joy.

We did make one more stop on the way. We hit a travel station or cafe essentially with a little gift shop where I found a bottle of Absynth. Yes thats right. What a shame it would have to be empty in order to bring it home (perhaps its not a bigger flask I needed after all). Unfortunately we had to find some Idiots here as well.

Spain is the primary supplier of Olive Oil to the world. They are very proud of it so when some stupid American picks up a 30 Euro bottle of oil and says they plan on cooking with it, well this is my kind of country. The woman at the register walked up and said; "no cook with this oil" and proceeded to forcibly remove it from the tourists hands. This is where my day got brighter. Instead of just saying 'Oh ok,' and taking another bottle and just paying for it or waiting to get some at another store she decided she would try and take the bottle back and ask why not. All she got for an answer was no cook with this oil and a smack across the hands before she gave up. It was beautiful. The shear look of disgust in her eyes upon getting slapped. It deserved an Emmy (cc: or a stiff shot fom my precious new bottle).

It wasn't till we were back on the bus I caught the tour guide telling the woman why you don't cook with good Spanish oil and why they take such offence to it. I really do think I'm going to have to move there. They have no tolerance for idiots either. (oh and they have absynth which is illegal in the US.)

Tim's take on life

just need to make a short note. Well, rather a short quote.
I may hate people but:

"I hate anything even somewhat retarded... which I guess means I hate myself.
But at least I'm only partially retarded."

Yes, thank you my dear brother. On the bright side of this, he DID just turn 21 so thats a pretty good excuse to be retarded.

the 'Depends' Tour, Travel Woes vol. 2

One of my favorite things to do is mess with peoples heads. I do this in a variety of ways just to get a rise out of someone or get that disgusted look from them. My trip to Spain was no different.

I often pride myself in that after 2 years at Norwich University most of the student population knew of me, and not as the type of guy you want to go out of your way to hang out with. More people knew me as an *** hole then by my actual name.

So basically I have set the bar rather high.

It didn't take me long to jump in with both feet once we got out of the U.S. Our first night we had a tour group meeting in the hotel bar and I came to a quick realization. Not only were Kate and I the youngest people on the tour (big surprise) but we were also one of the only couples without a hearing aid.

Yeap, most of our tour was of the retired age group. I think most people expected that this was a honeymoon of sorts for us so when asked 'How long have you two been married?' I quickly took the chance to turn a few heads. Now I don't know how your grandparents are but the simple phrase: 'Oh, we're not Married, we're just out for a good time.' is typically an appalling statement for them to hear.

Add to my typically charming demeanor, a few drinks (cc: many, many, many drinks) and Im surprised I didn't cause some of these people a heart attack.

We got more disgusted looks from people in the first three days then I think Kate has ever gotten in her life. Needless to say she was not very happy with me but that did little to slow me down.

One evening after getting back from a 4 hour bus trip we went up to our room and cleaned up a little so we could go to the bars after dinner. When we came down we met up with part of our tour group exiting the dining hall. Curious about where we had been one older woman asked where we had been.

It was just too easy for me to pass up. Before Kate could answer I jumped in with, 'We needed a quickie after been stuck on the bus for so long.'

If looks could kill, Id me a millionaire.

No... Wait, thats not right.
Well, you know what I meant.

All in all Id say I gave most of those old folks a quick introduction into the 21st century. Whether they wanted it or not.

Not like it matters though. They probably forgot all about us 2 days later. Damn Alzheimers!

Two of the 7 dwarves, travel woes vol. 1

Well, Im back. Unfortunately.
It was a lovely time in the south of Spain, where it never rains unless I visit (ill have more on this later), but eventually I had to return home and get back to my life. (cc: ran out of money so I need a few more paychecks).

The trip back was pretty decent though, I spent most of the 10 hours back to JFK Airport playing Suduku and reading Dan Browns Deception Point (really good book so far by the way) and the rest being a good boy (cc: being very mean and naughtly evil to Kate). By the time we landed we had been traveling for a good 16 hours and we are getting Sleepy and Grumpy. Go figure.

Here is where things went awry. We had just under 2 hours from when we landed from Madrid to when our plane would leave for Portland.

Thats 2 hours to enter the country

Retrieve our luggage

Go through customs

Change terminals

Recheck luggage

and board our flight home.

Yeah... Now this wouldn't have been THAT big of a deal, but then we weren't the only ones on the plane and people are just freaking uselessly retarded. What? you didn't know?

For those of you who don't travel, typically airport security people have little patience and customs officials are usually even worse. But I steeled myself and tried to be personable without pissing anyone off. Hell, I needed their OK to get back into the US and not end up like Tom Hanks in THE TERMINAL. So couple all this with the fact that most people are NUMB (cc: husks of flesh with no intelligence walking around that force people like me to drink), we didn't stand much of a chance to catch our flight.

We exited the plane and raced down the tunnel following a few people who seemed to be on a mission the same as us but apparently they don't have the same kind of stamina. Halfway to the first security check they decide they have had enough and slow to an unbearable crawl and won't get the hell out of the way. I politely excused myself (cc: knocked them over, and pulled Kate through the mess) and raced on.

We jumped in line at the first security point and waited to have our passports checked. Here there are about 7 customs officials trying to service 3 planes worth of international travelers. Not necessarily the best recipe for speed and friendly service. But we followed directions and shared a laugh with security at the people who did not understand simple directions like: Wait in the line your instructed to until called by the customs agent, families stay together. It didn't take long to frustrate the large black woman before she turned around and said, 'can everyone hear and under stand me? am i that difficult to comprehend. GET IN THE LINE I TELL YOU AND WAIT THERE TILL YOU ARE CALLED ON! FAMILIES STAY TOGETHER!!'

I have never found a woman so beautiful.

So we get through security and go to get our luggage just as the carousel begins to turn and what luck, kates bag is in the first load off the plane. But mine however... is not. We waited there (no lie) about 20 mins for my bag to come, im pretty sure there was only a few loads left on the plane and it boggles my mind how 2 bags checked together end up on opposite ends of the aircraft but at least they hadn't gotten lost somehow. Next onto customs.

Here of course thanks to our 20 min wait, there was a line of people ahead of us. Some nice people let us go ahead of them after we explained our situation and I thanked them by not being well, me, and waited for our turn. Of course though they asked us to step aside and open our luggage so they could check on the olives and things i had brought back for gifts. (thats what iget for trying to be nice).

Somehow they have 1 person trying to check a line of peoples declared items and he is about 70 years old... and slow as death warmed over. (funny coincidence). Another nice security person came and asked us what we had that needed to be checked, looked over her shoulder and waved us on. I almost kissed the woman. how the hell do customs agents get the rapt for being jerks?

We ran to the elevator the the air tram and didn't have to wait long for it to arrive. Things seemed to be going smoothly, somehow. We took the tram to terminal 3, only 2 stops over and headed for our Delta flight. Unfortunately the elevator was busted we had to take the escalator... which was also shut down. Ok no biggie right? Except we have 3 carryons, and 2 bags that way more then 60 pounds each. and wheels don't work so good on steps.

I handed Kate one of my carryons, slung the other on my back like a back pack, grabbed both of our bags and heaved. Now normally about 125 pounds is not an excruciating amount of weight to lift but the shear bulk of the bags kept me from being able to hoist them and easily go up the steps. But somehow we made it. Keep in mind we are still on a tight schedule and you normally have to check bags a little more then an hour before your flight or they won't take them. I hoped against hope that if they would not check them at the counter then we could check them at the plane like we had seen people do on the flight down, this was only a small prop plane after all.

We made it though. Panting and sweat dripping, I dropped the bags at the counter and kate checked us in. All about 50 mins before our plane would take off. It occurred to me then that if our flight had not gotten in 20 mins early we probably would not have made it. Cheery and relieved we went to get some food, had a drink at the airport bar (actually a few drinks). I called for Tim to be at the airport to pick us up and Kate called her mom to say we would make our flight.

Now i need to cut in. Kate's mom is the type of person who lives and travels THROUGH others. She actually calls the airpor to see if flights are on time, and follows us along on our little itinerary for the whole trip. When our tour schedule changed Kate had to call and inform her mother. Scary and well rather sick. But I accept it... kind of.

It seemed on this night however that Kate's mom actually knew more then we did. While on the phone I hear kate say, 'Nooo, I don't think so mom...' She got up and walked over to the display board and almost dropped the phone. No, we hadn't missed our flight. It was delayed due to mechanical issued from 9:05 to 10:45. the delay was as long as the actual flight.

After she hung up we headed back to the bar and now that i think of it i don't actually remember closing our tab. By the time the flight had been delayed a second time and the rest of the airport was shutting down we decided to go for a walk. I think the bartender expected we would be comming back or just didn't see us leave because we had probably 5 drinks that had not been paid for. Anyway we eventually got out of the airport and back home only to find that the airport had torn Kates bag somehow and put a really nasty skuff in mine. It must have gotten caught on something because they had been fine when we checked them in JFK.

At 3 am I finally got home, dropped my bags, got mauled by my dog, and went to bed. Im thinking Im never flying Delta Again.

Just some quick entertainment

Just thought I'd give you a little something to chew on for the week. I probably won't get a chance to update next week so hang in there, I'll try and make up for it when I get back.

So I was thinking about how people say things without really knowing what they mean. Or without thinking about what they just said. Stupid little quips like; Im standing here, beside myself. What the Heck is that supposed to mean?

One of my favorites is; Up at the crack of dawn.

Well what exactly IS the crack of dawn? Who came up with this?

Its not like you can hear an audiable sound like a 'crack of thunder.' But I guess thats usually considered a 'clap of thunder' and a 'crack of lighting.' And I guess that can make sence because a lighting bolt can look kinda like a crack in the sky. But its not like the horizon does.

Its not like the sun 'cracks through' the horizon line either. Its more like it passes through the 'line on the horizon.'

Now thats a phrase that makes sence, 'line on the horizon.' So maybe the saying should be: 'up at the passing of the horizon.' Then again, that could mean dawn OR dusk so how do you distinguish which is which? Because someone who doesn't get up until the sun goes down would have the same saying but would mean exactly the opposite.

By the way, that doesn't exactly say WHAT is breaking or passing the horizon, it could very well be the moon you were talking about. But then again no one really talks about where the moon is when they wake up.

So maybe 'breaks the horizon' is better. Since the sun doesn't really break the horizon when it sets, its more swallowed up by it. Then at least there is a difference in the two sayings but i don't think 'up at the swallowing on the horizon' is a very appropriate thing to be saying.

Then again, who am i to judge?

I hate cloths shopping...

Why is it that when I TRY and mind my own business I end up getting in more trouble then if I had spouted my mouth off in the first place?

Let me set the scene for you:

Winter is commons and as a productive member of society (cc. I have a job unlike you welfare bastards) it was time for me to get some cold weather cloths so I don't literally freeze to the steel girts Ill be sitting on next week.

Something funny about that, when I applied for this job in one of the interviews the guy asked me: 'We pour concrete in 10 below zero, whatda you think about that?' Umm... I think I'm surprised your still in business because water freezes at 32 degrees and funny as it may seem to you, water is an essential ingredient to concrete. So really I guess I'm surprised these foundations you poured like that have not crumbled yet. You can call me and tell me what an idiot you are when they do. Here's my cell number.

So as I was saying, I went shopping for some good warm work cloths. And anybody who has to work in ten below zero weather knows your first stop is for long johns and your second is for Carhartt.

Side note, I really do love winter, its the blinding cold days that I have to work in instead of going skiing or something that I despise.

I decided to check Renny's first and if I couldn't find what I wanted, well heck I live in Maine, I could always swing over to LL Bean. But Renny's had all I could hope for to fulfill my clothing needs. What they were lacking are employees with half a clue.

I really hate to cloths shop but I was busying myself looking for the right sizes and specific styles (you need to be fashionable at work too of course...) when I overheard a few employees talking. I tried not to pay any attention at first; it really didn't concern me, that is until they asked my opinion.

They couldn't have known how bad an idea this was. I really need to start wearing that 'I'm an A-Hole' hat. Or maybe people need to remember to carry around their 'I'm a moron' signs. (thanks Bill).

One girl was talking about how her daddy was forcing her to clean her horse’s stall out. How could he do that! Its not like he pays for the horse itself, its food, all its tack and crap just so you can ride it once a week! OMG you mean you have to do something to take care of it? Yeah, um I worked at a horse farm for about 8 years and I had to deal with these people on a daily basis. I have no tolerance for them.

But as unlike me as it was, I just shook my head and walked away. It really didn't have anything to do with me. So as I continued to shop I tried to do my best to ignore what they were saying (cc: drained my flask, it would be an interesting ride home).

I just wish I could have ignored them a little longer (cc: wish my flask held more). Just about the time I had to ask one of them to unlock the dressing rooms, (why they were locked in the first place I'm not exactly sure) I slipped up and spouted my mouth off. 'You wouldn't believe it but I woke up at 8 am this morn. and I couldn't go back to sleep. Then Matt wouldn't even make me breakfast and he refused to go to work late to stay with me a little longer. Honestly I don't know why I even love him.'

I think you could almost hear the blood vessels bursting in my brain as I went off on this pour unsuspecting girl.

'Eight AM! EIGHT AM!!! your over there complaining because you couldn't sleep past 8? I was at work at 6:30 am this morning, oh wait, actually work starts at 6:30 so I was there closer to ten past six. That means I was up at about 5 and you want to complain about 8? Secondly do you know why your feet are short? Its so you can stand closer to the kitchen counter and cook ME breakfast. You really expected your boyfriend who had to go to work in the morning to help your dad pay for your stupid horse you refuse to clean up after, to stay home to cook you breakfast because you couldn't sleep anymore? And poor you! that meant you were up a whole what 5 hours before you had to go to work for your 6 hour shift. Oh know, the world is ending.'

There was a flurry of other comments that came in about things they had said earlier that I unfortunately had overheard them talking about but its all blurred together in my mind right now. All in all I'm actually surprised I didn't make the kid cry. I'm kinda disappointed.

Needless to say I ended up going to LL bean for the my warm weather clothing. They not so politely asked me to leave the store and never come back. Good thing there's another one in Pittsfield. Hopefully they don't have my picture posted behind the counter throughout the chain.

Not so much Full Service

I guess its too much to ask for a gas station attendent to know how to pump your fuel. Granted, in most cases these individuals are minimum wage junkies who have been fired from Burger King and couldn't find a dipstick to save their lives (otherwise they'd be 'mechanics'), but I think at the very least they should be able to remember the 20 minute training video on how to effectively operate a fuel pump.

My mistake, what could I have possibly be thinking.
If you have no idea where I'm coming from then allow me to elaborate.

This week I stopped at the local Irving’s station, which I might add is NOT run by some Indian or Arabian immigrant (YAY!), and asked for a fill. 'Mid grade please, fill it up.' The scary part here is that I probably would have had better luck with a foreigner. At least then they could claim they didn't understand me.

After the guy took and ran my card he switched on the pump, hit the mid grade and started to fill my tank. Then he walked away.

Ok, that’s fine. They were pretty busy only having 4 pumps and cars lined up at each so I can kind of forgive him for not offering to clean my windshield or anything. The problem came when he came back. He clicked the pump off and put the nozzle away, printed my receipt and gave it to me.

I thanked him unconsciously and then started my car to go, reset the odometer and just happened to glance at the fuel gage. I was already starting to pull away when I noticed it wasn't reading full.

I don't know why I stopped then. I know it sometimes takes a few minutes for my gage to reset to full but something made me look at the receipt. The receipt that for some reason I hadn't already tossed behind the seat. I wish I hadn't looked. I could have been a much happier person. I could have just filled up again later someplace else, not realizing the mistake but no. I had already seen the gallons listed.

I drive a 1990 Cherokee with a 20.2 gal tank. I know this because not only have I read my owners manual, I also have ran my car to almost empty and filled it to the tippie top just to see what it could hold. So when I looked down and saw the “gallons pumped” listed as 11.339 and my gas light was on when I pulled in, I was a little confused (cc. fired up).

I shut the car off, unbuckled and got out of the car. Another attendent ran up asking if there was a problem and I just walked past him. I ran my card again and started to fill my tank the rest of the way.

The first guy (cc. Moron) came back then trying to ask me what I was doing. ‘I guess I thought I was filling my tank like I asked YOU to do.’ He backpedaled a little, sputtering and trying to figure out what was going on.

‘I’m sorry sir, The pump clicked off, I thought it was full.’

‘That’s funny because I think you turned off the pump to service these other people before my tank was full.’

He didn’t seem to like that so he tried to offer to finish pumping for me but he was just making things worse at this point. If he couldn’t do it right the first time what made him think I would give him another chance?

Instead I let the pump run and run and run, I let that thing go as slow as I possibly could. tenths ticked off as slow as gallons would normally take. Horns blew, people yelled and all I had to do was stand there. The attendents didn’t even try to move me or make the pump run faster. I think they knew I was a little unhappy.

By the time my tank was actually full (almost 8 gallons later) three cars had pulled up behind me, sat for a minute and then moved in frustration. I think I should have reacted a little more, maybe then I could have gotten my windows clean and oil checked, this being a FULL SERVICE STATION and all but I think from now on I’ll be sure to go someplace I can pump my own gas and make sure its right the first time.

Restroom Van Gogh

Ok, here it is.
The start of something special.

No, I don't mean "special ed." special.
I mean you’re in for a treat.

This is the day I choose to open my endless ranting to the World Wide Web. And please, don't get me started on the whole Internet thing. There will be plenty of time for that later. Just let me warm up a bit.

Today I was getting some shopping done (cc: beer run) when I had to use the bathroom. Now normally something so simple and in some people's minds, rather disgusting would not be worth mentioning but trust me on this one.

So I head to the public restrooms, find and empty stall and step in. Ill refrain from describing to you what took place next but it brought something to my attention that I just needed to come home and get off my chest.

What is it about a public restroom stall that gives any and every moron the inspiration to write. There is not a stall in the U.S. that does not have the scribblings of some genius to the note of; 'Mike is Gay' or an attempt at a graphic picture.

OH look! I have a pen in my pocket, or a key! I think Ill carve my name into the wall so I am forever immortalized in the local Walmart’s restroom! What if I write something funny so that when ever someone sits down here they get a little chuckle.

Quick question, check the bathroom in your house. Do you generally write on those walls? Or do you carve a picture in your buddy’s bathroom wall when you go over to watch the ball game? I didn’t think so, but just in case you do, do the rest of us a favor and go play in traffic on the interstate.

News Flash: People do not come into a public restroom to read your remarks, most of which are too stupid to bother having been written in the first place. You are NOT funny, unless of course you actually ARE on the payroll for a big TV sitcom in which case you can afford to be sued for defacement of private property.

I don’t know who ‘Mike’ is and I really don’t care that you think he is gay. Frankly I think its better that you AND Mike stay in the closet. I’ll even prop a chair on the outside to keep you in there if I have to.

If you have enough time on your hands to decide it’s a GOOD idea to write something stupid on a bathroom wall then you need to be taught the meaning of the phrase S*** or get off the pot.