I’ve come across two strange public bathroom inventions. “What?” you think, “Like a new soap dispenser?” No, not quite…

Exhibit A) The toll bathroom.

I felt quite incensed that I had to pay 25 cents to use the bathroom at this SF movie theatre. It’s a cruel gimmick to charge people to pee.

IMG_4259    IMG_4257Exhibit B) The child restraining/coerced voyeur seat.

I mean really this is actually probably a pretty smart invention. I can imagine the harried mother with the toddler that is always trying to escape, or the baby in a stroller she doesn’t want to let out of her sight, that needs this device. I just wonder if the bathroom designer was enlightened enough to put the same seat in the men’s bathroom as well?

a smart inventionNow enjoy this poem I wrote several years ago after a traumatizing experience in an airport bathroom. You’ll relate.

Oh dear God, what happened here?

I’ve walked into a bathroom stall

where something sketchy clearly did befall.

 

Wasn’t it a nice-looking woman that just emerged?

Like a witness after the fact,

in a daze, my memory I must wrack.

 

I’ve been taken by surprise, just a bit hysterical-

trying to imagine what possible situation

could have culminated in my current tribulation.

 

She must have been crouching at some height…

To find just what I’d need a spatter analysis.

Not by me, I’ve been seized by a sudden paralysis.

 

No, I’m not equipped to handle this scene!

And I know it might seem quite lowly,

but I think I’ll just back away slowly.

 

My creativity is endless. Colleges, listen up: I’ve invented your next great merchandise moneymaker.

Wankie Hankie

They didn’t think anything because they’re complete dullards. I hate when my ingenuity goes unappreciated.

Further proof in the superiority of my invention, and it will be much better for the environment.

wankiehankie2

The Traffic Snackiff is an essential part of any rush hour routine. You know the routine- get in your car, drive about six inches, angrily shout at other drivers, look around aimlessly, complain about how tired your clutch ankle is getting with all the stop and go. And then… HUNGRY.

Because rush-hour tends to coincide with dinner time. You’ll be happily motoring along (yeah right, what a joke), and then like a cobra, starvation will strike. It creeps up stealthily until all of a sudden  you can no longer speak, no longer think, can hardly support your head to observe that you’re was going nowhere, you are so ravenous.

That’s why I came up with Traffic Snackiff, the (what are we on now, Taco Bell?) fifth meal of the day.

There are a lot of donut shops in LA, and an inordinately high concentration of bizarre donut-something else hybrids. I’m talking donuts and fried chicken, donuts and sandwiches. Well all the places I stopped invariably seemed to be donuts and crack cocaine. But starvation is a harsh mistress. Neither sleet, nor snow (both common in LA summers), nor tweaking junkie outside, could deter me from pulling over to get my traffic snackiff: old-fashioned chocolate glazed donut and chocolate milk.

IMG_4024

Yum, people. Yum.

Now when when your mind starts to clear as your hunger slowly fades, and the angry buzzing in your ears dissipates to be replaced by a lazy sugar smile on your face, you may hear conversations occurring around you of the type like, “I’m telling you man, it’s fine. I’ve never done time.”

At this point it’s time to go.

But that’s just part of Traffic Snackiff’s charm. Now not only are you no longer hungry, satisfied with delicious chocolatey comfort in your stomach, now you are also happy to be in your car, back on the road, driving away from whatever nefarious den you just exited.

Traffic Snackiff™

 

Ever since the infamous pederasty text, I’ve realized the power of using ugly, naked men to get what I want. Now you may think, wait, don’t you mean the power of beautiful, naked women? Nope. Sex sells, but ugly has the power to make people go, “Oh God, don’t show me any more!”, and in their distraction, submit to your will. It’s not exactly scare tactics- it’s Ugly Tactics.

Turns out it’s more effective when you don’t point out that you are using them, and the success you’re having. Then your ugly-recipients tend to get a little pissy. But the use of ugly tactics is an art I’m in the process of refining. I think it shows much promise.

Emojis

 

You’ll notice that the picture of Kate Upton was totally useless in getting the boys to do what I wanted. I really think magazine editors need to take notice. Ugly is a powerful force.

A new apparatus has made an appearance in our ballet studio, unannounced. What is it, you ask? Does it come with an instruction manual?

Nonsense! Who needs that? After studying it over hours of ballet torture, its presence has become self-explanatory to me. But I’ll enlighten, if it hasn’t spoken to you as of yet.

I present: THE FRUSTRATION MACHINE!

Falling out of that pirouette? Can’t seem to hold your balance? Missing every combination? Don’t be so perturbed! Simply use the frustration machine to reset your emotions to the proper level of focus. Grab the handles, line your forehead up with the rolled towel, and bash your head against it repeatedly until all anger over failed ballet has been exorcized.

Is that not cutting it? Still driven insane by your inability to perform even the simplest of steps? Teacher getting you down, and it seems like there’s just no escape? Allow us to put you out of your misery! Upgrade to: THE BEHEADREST!

Just grab the handles, scooch your head up a bit so that your neck rests comfortably on the padding, then have your closest friend or class-mate do the honors of beheading you! (Axe sold separately.)

Clearly my mind wanders during class…

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