Urinal Cake Nightmare

In a change from my normal dialog, I am going to try and have a constructive dialog with a real person in hopes of actually solving one of the world’s great injustices. Oh who am I kidding, I am just going to end up yelling and ranting anyway so let’s just start there and get it over with…


I hate you licorice scented urinal cake inventor. Damn that feels good.

First I hate you because you are filthy rich ‘swimming’ in urinal cake money. Second, I hate you for somehow managing to figure out a way to make a nasty old men’s room smell worse than shit and piss. As much I disliked ‘traditional urine cake odor’ it at least was enough to block out the plethora of wafting odors coming from the three hundred pound man in the Taco Bell stall. But this licorice crap is so bad that I have to turn my head while taking a piss to avoid the memories of late night Sambuca shots and my nightmares of Willy Wonka as a child. Now I am stuck in some back and forth head bob between the wretched stench of two day old turds (btw Microsoft Word does not recognize this word and suggests I change it, get with the program Bill Gates ‘turds’ is here to stay you uppity prick) and your confectioner inspired urinal cake. Picture the scene from the guy standing in the stall next to me as my head spins around, mouth wide open trying to avoid breathing with my nose, pee going all over the place cause I am not looking where I am aiming as I mutter ‘oh God make it go away’. (ps he asked for my number before he left. I didn’t give it to him of course…he didn’t wash his hands, weirdo.)