A review of August 2007

I am not often critical of entire months but this one has been a strange, universe in the balance, kinda month. It actually started with me taking a rather pleasant trip ti San Fransisco, which was a good point. It is a wonderful city with a bar called Zeitgeist that I think everyone should go to and drink at, it is a lot like a German Beer hall with an 80's gutterpunk twist but it has the bonus points of not being full of Germans or gutterpunks and all their various smells, I shall go back. That, sadly, was the best part of the month of August, since my return to Southern California it has been hot and humid, I have not checked to see if these are the Santa Anna's but, whatever it is and I am thinking that it is the whorey minions of hell trying to over heat SoCal in an evil attempt to drive up ice cream prices and close down non-corporate taco stands so Satan and Dick Cheney can take control of both the California ice cream lobby and the illegal carne asada traffic from Mexico, any way it has been too hot for my Viking blood. With the heat this month, have come the poor drinkers and week of stomach, therefore the bar has been awash in vomitus messings. I am officially naming August the "You can't hydrate your body with alcohol awareness month", so drink some water you newbie drinkers and stop throwing up in my bar or I will burn the word "PukeJerk"into your face with a hot knife. The biggest reason that I am writing about August 2007 is that I wanted to tell the story of the Phantom Deuce. I am standing at the door of the bar the other day and am asked to check out the men's room. I think maybe I have a puker but it is something much worse. As a disclaimer, do not read this while eating. Some one had shat their pants in the bar men's room, literally I mean, their drawers were still on the floor all knotted and fecal. The strangest part was that they had somehow pooped on the bottom of the bowl, it wasn't a runner and no dung on the floor but on the curved bottom part of the bowl and the smell was as if the Golgothan itself had had a particularly nasty sulfur and egg sandwich. I couldn't stomach it, lucky for me we have people at work that own children and can deal with poop and a half of bottle of bleach later it was gone. So that was my August 2007 in review, I really only did this as a coping story for myself because if I have to deal with that image of dookie in my head, so do you.