Archive for Crusty

Hunting The Bogeyman.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 7, 2009 by Buck Frain

OK, so here I am. Again. Back at my stupid, stupid, fucky old job facilitating the acquisition of accurate research data for sociopathic multi-nationals. Ticking boxes and going through the motions for malevolent, imbecilic and monstrous bints. Yeah, it sucks but what really fucks with me is how the cancer of toxic personality trickles its way down the corporate ladder infecting everyone in the whole organisation.

I went to the staff toilet on our floor today. I think it’s the first time I’ve been to the toilet whilst at work since I’ve been back. No, not because I’m afraid, but because I don’t drink enough water, although after today’s experience I don’t want to go back. Standing at the urinal I couldn’t help but notice that the wall at eye level was spattered with bogeys. I’m not talking about a dried phlegmy spit which is gross but quite common to see in male toilets, but a serious spattering of crusty boogers.

I examined the form and pattern trying to work out what the volcanic arsehole was going on. There was no way this was just an unguarded sneeze, there must have been over 100 of them. This was a conscious and premeditated work undertaken over months while I’ve been absent. It was a veritable nose-goblin collection that Stimpy himself would have been proud of. I was fucking appalled!

stimpy_nose_goblins

So, was the Bogey Collector just leaning back while pissing and blowing the loose bogeys out onto the wall? No. I don’t think so. That may have been how it started but it had since gotten way out of control. He really liked this. He liked putting the bogeys up and he loved that they were staying there and that there was nowhere else to look but at them. There were some that were definitely picked, I could see what looked like smear marks trailing from some of them. This meant he was standing there, pissing, dick in one hand, other hand stuck up his nose fishing out grunties and then wiping them on the wall. Now that is just cunting well wrong! I don’t blame the cleaners for not cleaning the bogeys off. That’s not their job, this is vandalism, this is some crazy fucking act of mucus terrorism. ONE OF THEM HAS A CUNTING GREAT HAIR IN IT, FOR SHIT’S SAKE!!! Quick – call forensics! I need that fucker DNA tested so I can track this snot-fiend down.

I left the toilet. Nauseated. Outraged. Bogeys on the fucking wall! WHY!!! It doesn’t hurt The Wobblers, they don’t use the gents…maybe they do – eew!!! As a form of protest it is completely redundant. It’s just fucking gross. It only serves to further demoralise people who hate being there anyway. Even the most inarticulate graffiti has a message, this has no message… Or does it? Is it just a pure emotional expression? Is it a visceral interpretation of the rage generated by corporate containment and the impotence of the individual? Is this the post-modern answer to conventional graffiti? Could this be the future of street art? NO! NO! NO! IT’S NOT AND IT SHITTING WELL COULDN’T!! IT’S BOGEYS ON A MOTHER-FUCKING WALL!!! IT’S FUCKING FILTHY AND WHEN I FIND YOU, BOGEY COLLECTOR, I’LL FUCKING EXPOSE YOU FOR THE SHIT-EATING, CUNTFUL DEVIATE YOU ARE!!!

DON’T SMEAR YOUR FUCKING BOGEYS ON WALLS!!!

I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU!!!

ARSE!!!