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Wednesday, April 04, 2007


Mulva?


Allow me to introduce myself - I am Dolores, the newest addition to the blog. So far I'm the only female contributing to this esteemed site and I'm here to provide a much-needed perspective on behalf of those who make real-life decisions using their brain and not (usually) their genitals. Using vulgar witty commentary, I hope you'll appreciate what I have to offer and maybe learn a thing or two about the fairer (and obviously superior) sex.

With a name as hot and steamy as Dolores, I'm sure any image you conjure up in your head regarding my appearance probably resembles something like that crabby old bitch from the shoebox greeting cards (who I secretly find funny):


It's not the menopause, I'm just like this -- super bitchy.


But actually I'm nothing of the sort. I'm under 30, tall, brunette, and have it on good authority from my current BF that I have amazing ta-ta's. But tits aside, let's talk about what really matters - personality. And as far as personalities go, well what can I say, except that mine is outstandingly... dirty. And open. And very laid back. A killer combo and one that makes for a great introductory story:

Crap

A few months ago, I had to travel to Seattle for work, where I met, for the first time 4 or 5 fellow co-workers who reside outside of the DC-metro area. Over a nice and expensive dinner, the table conversation took up the topic of "most embarrassing moment". But of course I'm with my co-workers, who's stories consisted of walking out of a clothing store without paying for an item and another bland tale of someone throwing up on a date. As we went round the table, I sat pondering: I hardly knew the people I was with, I don't get embarrassed easily, and these stories quite frankly were *yawn*. So I decided the best course of action would be to bring the dinner conversation down to my level and let loose with this little tale: the first time I ever took a shit at my boyfriend's house, I clogged the toilet.

Imagine - I'd been dating this guy for maybe a month when I had the urge to purge while hanging out at his place. I coyly slipped into his parent's bathroom so the post-shit smell would not invade the living room. Admittingly, I was scared. I have a tendency to clog toilets and everytime I have to go in a place that's far from home, it's always a crap-shoot (zing!) that everything will go down. So after I finished my biz, I flushed the toilet with bated breath. For a brief moment, it looked like it was gonna make it and everything was going to be ok. But oh, I was so wrong and those little swirls abruptly stopped. Now any seasoned clogger will tell you never to flush a second time as it always ends up in disaster. Well, I was in a desperate situation - I had no idea where the plunger was and I was actually too embarrassed to admit to my boyfriend that I was a champion deucer and ask. Ignoring my own advice, I prayed and reached once again for the toilet handle and flushed. As expected, the crap did not go down the hole. But not only did it not go down, the toilet water started coming up and overflowing the bowl. As the water gushed over the top and onto his parent's pristine bathroom floor, I was totally dumb-founded and unable to move from my spot (except to avoid toilet water from soaking my shoes). Finally, after the entire floor is covered and the water is starting to seep into the bedroom carpet, my sense returned and I yelled out "Yo, your toilet's broken!" I couldn't have made a hotter impression, I don't think, as he caming running in to find his toilet-turned-fountain and a sweet aroma in the air. Needless to say, we spent a better part of a Friday night sopping up the water with a sponge before going out and getting deliriously drunk.

Fortunately my calculations proved correct and my "most embarrassing" moment story paid off at the dinner table. My co-workers were in tears and very happy that I brought the class of the evening down a notch or two. Oddly enough, the one person that looked the most bothered by the story was one of my male coworkers. Maybe it was because he just learned for the first time that girls not only fart, they also have the ability to take massive, stinky, toilet-clogging dumps.

Signing off - I'm Dolores and go fuck yourself, San Diego.





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1 Comments:

  • At 7:44 AM, Blogger Awful Chief said…

    Your coworker was just disturbed because he suddenly felt very sad in pants.

     

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