GWiMMRN, King Tut Edition

Let my Mouth go!

GWiMMRN:

A) King Tut's shriveled, mummified testicles.
B) AMIGA.
C) Commodore 64's Rollerball game, which my brother callously threw away like the shriveled horse testicle that he is.
D) The Holiest Shrine in Star Jones Reynold's Super-Flappy Vagina.
E) The Pyramids at Giza. Yes, all them mutherfuckers.
F) A big, fat mummified cock.

GWiMMRN, Shriveled Horse Testicle Edition

As you most likely have guessed, the previous post was actually the world's longest anagram. If you're properly FOCUSED, you've already puzzled it out and know all sorts of things. At any rate, the point isn't to talk about what happened yesterday; this website is not called GWWiMMY for a REASON. It's about what's in there right now:

A) A great sense of relief upon opening the upstairs toilet lid to find merely a stained bowl and rim instead of an unholy desecration
B) A new type of food based on the low calorie ("low-cal") concept that I call fee calorie ("fe-cal") where you pay more for higher calorie meals
C) What Star Jones looks like
D) Nasturtiums
E) Garlic curlies
F) Short 'n' curlies
G) Curly
H) Curling
I) The overweening self-importance of the average Berkeley resident
J) A big, fat curlescent cock

OPEN LETTER TO ALL USERS OF THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM Edition of GWiMMRN

To Whom It May Concern:

For two days in a row now, I have entered the upstairs lavatory to find that the commode has been unspeakably befouled. As I am the first to arrive in the morning, it's my understanding that the abomination perpetrated in and on the toilet has taken place the day before.

Both Tuesday and this morning, I have been kind enough to give the commode several flushes so that no other human being has to experience such an unholy horror. This is a courtesy that the perpetrator of this befoulment has yet to bestow upon us. I will not attempt to describe either the sight or smell of it, but you may rest assured that no human language can encompass the feeling of utter loathing such an experience engenders.

There are three possible conclusions one can come to, when faced with such appalling behavior:

1) A homeless man has somehow snuck into the building and made it his home.
2) The toilet backs up only at night.
3) Someone employed here is suffering significant abdominal trouble, combined with an utter and total lack of regard for any other human being in the universe.

I find 1) to be highly unlikely. 2) is less likely, but not impossible. I shall assume that 3) is the proper answer until evidence is presented that either 1) or 2) is actually correct.

To paraphrase a popular cliche, "Defecate on me once, shame on you. Defecate on me twice, shame on me." I have shunned the upstairs lavatory, and will not use it again until it has been thoroughly sanitized by our cleaning staff. I find it personally very upsetting to be subjected to the end products of another person's digestion in this way, and if I had any sort of legal recourse, you can be sure that I would right now be discussing the matter with an attorney.

I am now speaking to the individual responsible for this fecal fiasco: if you possess the least iota of humanity at all, you will make sure that your #2's are completely disposed of before leaving the upstairs bathroom.

Thank you for your attention.

Sincerely,

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

GWiMMRN, Optometry Edition

Right now, my eyes are dilated. I look like Mickey Mouse, strung out on coke.

Right now, I have something WONDERFUL in my mouth. Guess what it is:

A) Sunglasses.
B) Yellow dye.
C) Meat, meat, meat, cheese, and meat.
D) Floodpants.
E) That Star Jones Reynolds is leaving The View, and how much I don't give a fuck about that.
F) My phone sex stage name, "Hot Carl." Hello, this is Hot Carl... to whom am I speaking?
G) Nancy Drew, in all her glory.
H) Big, big, big, fat, and cock.

GWiMMRN, Toilet-Ruining BASTARD Edition

Okay, I've got a pretty good idea of who it was. You know who you are, you bastard. Next time, do a courtesy flush so that your gluey, evil-smelling stool doesn't stay in the bowl all fucking night and stain the porcelain for the rest of the week. I can't use that bathroom now. CAN'T. And it's your fault. We're living in a society here, you know? This edition of GWiMMRN goes out to you, my dear colleague:

A) Whatever it was you must've eaten the day before
B) Your steady diet of meat, meat, meat, cheese, and meat
C) A colon that would wear out seventeen test-tube scrubbers and 53,982 servings of oatmeal to clean
D) A supreme sense of obliviousness, combined with a lack of consideration for other human beings a sociopath would envy
E) A shocked cry of "Oh, my GOD," followed by a held nose, a quick flush, and a hasty retreat to the downstairs bathroom
F) The trade magazine I left in there and don't plan to retrieve any time soon
G) A big, fat cock that must've occupied your diseased, shit-smeared anus before you let fly into the bowl, you dirty, dirty shitter, you

I Am Woman! Hear Me Roar, Bitch!

Moving? Got a box to stuff stuff in? No? Well, you can GWiMMRN, anyhoo:

A) Testicles.
B) Dasani purified water, which is actually tap water from Schenectady, New York.
C) The reverse osmosis I used to talk my way out of a speeding ticket.
D) The Rebel Alliance, which is not the same as the Separatist Movement that started the Clone Wars. In fact, the Rebel Alliance began as a secret committee within the Galactic Senate that attempted to pursuade key votes in the Republic to vote against extending or providing new powers to Chancellor Palpatine of the Executive branch. The Rebel Alliance only began their terrorist activities after the Republic was renamed as The First Galactic Empire and after the official denunciation of the Jedi Order by Palpatine.
E) Executive Order 66, which orders all the ho's to treat my testicles as they would a Creamsicle.
F) Twinkie the Kid and his creamy insides.
G) Nothing to see here. Move along.
H) A big, fat cooooooooooock.