I think you need some intimation of the iron fist inside the velvet glove of your humor:
You collect a fat check
You’re not on the dole
If you like things this way
Better poop in the bowl.
Heh, heh. I read it as “…Miscalculated Faces”. Something to do with misunderstanding colleagues’ body language, I thought. A work rant, I thought. Click.
Can’t they do a DNA analysis and nail this guy in the nates?
Poop has DNA?
One summer I worked at a campground. On one slow day there were maybe 9 or 10 people on the entire camp that all were part of one group. They were all elderly. They didn’t have any guests and there wasn’t a person under 50 there.
Somebody covered all the stalls in crap.
That was by far my worse and strangest day of work.
- e + t
It took me 3 reads to figure out where this should be applied to, which is bad because that mistake is one of my irrational pet peeves.
I have received no further crap complaints. Perhaps as we near the holidays, people are opening their hearts and minds and using the one hundred year old contraption that we’ve installed twenty of on every floor.
That, or they’re trying to lull you into a false sense of security until the New Year’s Eve blow out. 
These are bankers, right?
They’re probably doing it on the walls and floors because there are no customers around to wipe it on.
They could if this was an episode of CSI: Chicago.
And as Greywolf73 said, I thought this was going to be about executives throwing poop off the top off a skyscraper. :smack:
I should so not be reading this thread while eating a powdered jelly doughnut. Bits of sugar are everywhere, but I’ll be sure to clean up.
But Nice Toilets make Nice Tenants, let’s keep it neat? What the fuck does that mean? Do people rent out the stalls or something?
It’s a variation on good fences make good neighbors. We have multiple tenants on the floor, and I don’t want everyone blaming everyone for haphazard shitting
There is just something about administrators and public restrooms.
Where I used to work (let’s just say that it’s a large building that is open to the general public all day) the restrooms got trashed on a fairly regular basis. Besides people scratching gang signs into the mirrors and taking the occasional dump in the urinal, decorating the walls with feces from time to time and leaving “sanitary” products in unsanitary places, there were reports of people undressing down to their birthday suits and washing up in front of the sinks, stopping up the plumbing by putting the entire contents of the seat-cover dispenser down the john, and even one guy taking the opportunity to shave his head with an electric razor.
And we won’t even mention the guy who dropped dead in one of the stalls.
Anyway, the management’s idea to fix this was to have the doors locked. It was explained that people would have to ASK to get into the restroom and would thus be given the impression that the staff knew they were in there, and thus would be less inclined to participate in their usual restroom shenanigans. And lo, it came to pass that the locks were installed on the restroom doors, and large signs instructing people to ASK for access were installed on the doors, carefully placed up above nearly everyone’s eye level.
And so, forever after, the restrooms were clean and sanitary… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! hee hee… snif (wiping eyes) oh man, that’s a GOOD one.
And we won’t even get into how the staff felt at having to interrrupt what they were doing to push the button on the remote control to unlock the doors several hundred times a day, or how they felt when the remote-control buttons gave out after a couple months of this kind of heavy use and the staff then got blamed for “breaking” them.
Or when they were told “Just push the button before the people get to the door. They don’t have to ask.” (The difference between an unlocked door and a door that gets unlocked before anyone even touches it is…?)
If it wasn’t a fact that the people who locked the doors in the first place never used those restrooms in their lives, it might be said that they’d been in there inhaling public-outhouse fumes a bit too long before they made the decision.
I’m glad you’re back posting about poop, jarbabyj.
So how 'bout coming back to Everything2?
This is such a load of crap.
thank goodness it’s not where i work
“We tested the DNA in that feces you sent to us, and we regret to inform you that your mad pooper is none other than the famous (infamous?) Mr. Peanut.”
Umm…bloody poop would have DNA.
Hey, you asked.