I'd like to share with all of you what a normal trip to school was like for me because after today I can never ride the bus again.

The bus leaves from a mall that's about a ten minute drive from my house. I chose to ride the bus because it saves me money. At times it was a little inconvenient, but at the end of the month, when I had the extra $50 to spend on old issues of TV Guide Magazine, it always seemed worth it. I collect TV Guide Magazine because I like to know what I could have seen on TV at any given point -- right now I'm filling in the late 80's.

Sometimes I read my magazines on the bus, but only if there isn't anyone interesting to look at. Once I board and pay my fare, I look at everyone riding and pick out the most attractive person. If no one interests me then�I take a seat near the front and read. Today a gorgeous brunette caught my eye: At about five foot six inches with a slender build, bright blue eyes and a smile to die for, they were by far the most attractive person I h ... Read more ...

     We all have some sort of quirk when we use a public bathroom; you may not even notice yours anymore. Some people line the seat with toilet paper, some people use a piece of toilet paper to flush so they don't have to touch the handle. Some people wash their hands excessively, use paper towel to open the door. These should be considered normal habits.

     I, however, am part of a different breed. We're few and far apart, but nearly everyone who has used a public bathroom has been affected by us in some way, at some time. I'm sure you know the feeling; that gas station bathroom that has just been completely wrecked, a vile mess. Something you would never imagine using except that you're going to piss your pants if you don't. You pull up your pant legs, maybe even close an eye. You plug your nose. We stop girls from sitting on the toilet, we make men go back outside to relieve themselves.

 To us it's an art. We can recognize each other's work -- when we walk in, we think to ourselves, "He' ... Read more ...

Some of you may already understand the concept of Six Degrees of Seperation, but since this is eBaum's World, most of you probably don't. To the latter I'll suggest Google, although your grasp of that concept upon which my concept is based on is in almost no way vital to understanding my theory. But still, maybe it would be nice for some of you to learn something -- I know you won't from the rest of this post.

So here it is, I'll make it simple: Just as Six Degrees of Seperation makes a link between you and billions of other�lifeforms, as does my idea; except that my lifeforms are harder to see, and are better counted with trillions.

It is my belief that atleast one man out of every six whose hand you shake has recently masturbated with it, and simply wiped, not washed, his ejaculate off -- some may not even bother with either and opt to just leave it crusted down their fore arm hair and between their fingers. Maybe they rubbed one off under their desk at work and just wiped the ex ... Read more ...

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At 3pm it started to snow. Not really what I had in mind. I called my friend to make sure we were still on for meeting up at his garage to replace my brake pads. I had let them go for too long and he was worried about me dying or something. He always cared too much about my safety, but that's how things had been since we met two years ago.

We met up at the Pick n Save by his house to pick up some beer, and then I followed him to the garage. He always acted like I didn't know the way even though I had been there dozens of times before.

The snow fell�heavily, my windshield wipers were set to high, and�my friend was�drifting his car back and forth�on the�narrow street. He�had a rear wheel drive Mustang that he�had done a fair amount of work on, and was well apt at handling it even in these very slippery conditions. He enjoyed sliding�his car around turns, but as soon as I tried to do the same he called�to tell me not to because he was�worried I might�hurt myself. ... Read more ...