Brown Noise

True story from a few minutes ago: I was just besieged by one of our most annoying customers, maybe our most annoying customer, this woman named Passios. She is pretty obnoxious but her children enter an entirely new stratosphere of the irritating. It's just... amazing. ANYWAY, I hear the little kid go "uh oh" while tornadoing through the kids section and then the mother immediately go "Alright, we need to get out of here faster." Then, when they're leaving, she goes: "I gotta get home and change his diaper. Anytime we're here, he poops."

Uh...

Now, this is pretty gross and funny on it's own, but then you take into account our elderly role model Joseph, who makes it a point to "use the john" everytime he's here hassling us to sell him a movie that came out last week used for seven dollars and you have to wonder... Does Media Wave have a magical grip on your or other peoples' bowels? The answer is YES.

(I, for one, have gotten through many-a-chapter of "Harry Potter" on our porcelain throne. And this is after I never pooped here for like the first two years because I was embarrassed and kind of grossed out.)

So, I implore all of you who can't "go" to come to Media Wave and get your B.M. on. Some people really do enjoy this magical power. A couple of weeks ago I was manning the sidewalk sale and some gentleman, right off the train and still in his suit, asked me to use the bathroom. I obliged. About fifteen minutes later Kevin, shooting steam from his ears, comes out and goes: that guy you let use the bathroom just diarrhea'd all over the seat - thanks a lot asshole!" [Paraphrasing, but Kevin takes the bathroom ultra- personally.]

And that's all the poop talk for today.

Come back tomorrow when I discuss vomit and puss-filled, Civil War-era battle wounds.

Drew.

PS - Some punk-ass kid (the age that Jordan and I HATE) just came in with a shirt that said: "Save the Trees, Wipe Your Ass with an Owl." Um... OK.

PPS - Jordan's post about "Mario Kart" made me really want to play it when I get out of work. While listening to Beck's "Midnite Vultures." I get out of work at three. My house, people, my house.