Monday, April 27, 2015

Did you leave your balls in the men’s room?

Somebody did.

That is a ping-pong ball sitting up on the handicap rail of the penthouse stall.

First of all, this is INSANELY dangerous. Can you imagine the handi-abled gent who wheels into the stall and then tries to hoist himself onto the bowl using that rail and then his hand SLIPS on your carelessly-left-behind ping-pong ball?!? He could fall and paralyze himself! (If he’s not already paralyzed, of course.)

Second, which one of you ballers is carrying around your own ping-pong ball? And why?

Third, WHERE were you keeping that ball? Was it someplace where it needed to be removed before you could do your #2 business?

The lesson here: If you insist on keeping a ping-pong ball in your butt (no judgement) then please replace it before exiting the stall lest your double paralyze a co-worker.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Please don't wipe your butt with an old t-shirt

I wish I didn't have to write this, but evidence in the men's room this week suggests that it may be necessary. 

If you are making a number two and there is no toilet paper but there IS an old t-shirt lying around, you MAY be tempted to use that old t-shirt to wipe your butt. 

But think ahead, dear reader. Then what? What happens the second after you've cleaned yourself up? What do you DO with the t-shirt? 

So, thanks, thoughtful-co-worker-who-left-his-old-t-shirt-draped-over-the-handicap-bar but I think we'll be just fine without your v-neck. 

Friday, March 20, 2015

Watermelon anus?

This tip came in this morning from a faithful reader. It feels like important news to report.

This is what the future is going to be like friends: a world where you can make your dumps smell like anything you want. That's a world I WANT to live in.

Not sure if it's a pill or an attachment or what that gives you this super power, but sign Potty Blogger up for your beta test, please.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

What. The. Fuck.

Listen, this is a blog about toilets and bodily functions. We've seen some things. We've talked about stuff you probably wouldn't share at the dinner table. In fact, some days you can get a little jaded, thinking you've seen it all.

“Do I even have the capacity to be shocked anymore? a potty blogger thinks to himself.

And then...

Yesterday, I stumbled across a crime scene so hard to explain that it immediately slapped me back to the “ olden days of this blog. When coworkers seemed to go out of their way to find new and creative ways to soil the porcelain.

It was first floor mens room. (Yes, the one that no longer says “men on the outside of the door but, rather, sports a cheeky set of painted “two low balls to indicate “this one is for the fellas.)

I headed to the penthouse stall for a quiet sit when I pushed back the door and saw it.

“Is that a large, wet caterpillar that has just pushed out of its cocoon and crawled up on the seat?” is how my brain first tried to make sense of what it saw.

But it was no caterpillar.

And this was no in-the-bowl remnant. This was an honest-to-goodness, proud-as-a-peacock, sitting-smack-dab-on-the-seat turd.

Many questions flooded forward.

Was it coworkers silent protest? Or a cry for help?

Was it the rogue byproduct of an interviewee's nervous tummy?

And who, in god’s name, commits such a crime, stands, sees it and thinks, “Yeah, I’m just going to leave that there?”

Yes, I took a picture. (Mainly to confirm later that it was not some delirious fever dream, but that somebody actually left that baby on the shelf.) And the editorial staff here at 720-California-4th-floor-mens-room-dot-blogspot-dot-com debated long and hard about whether or not to include the photo along with this post.

But if we do that, the terrorist wins.

I don’t know who you are, first floor turd painter, but what you did was WRONG. This is not some art project and an office toilet seat is not a canvas for your fecal shenanigans.

Cut it out.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Cinnamon Urinal Cake

Hello, innovation!

The mens rooms at 720 California are enjoying a sweet new smell this week. Cinnamon urinal cakes.

It's like peeing into a bowl of Red Hots! So satisfying.

But be careful, men. For those of you who are more generously endowed, don't let your equipment dip down and make contact. Nobody wants a stick of Big Red in their urethra. (Trust me on this one.)

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!

It's been a long, long time since potty blogger has written, dear readers.

So long that I began to wonder if anything would make me take up my pen again. Writing about the dumps of co-workers is a one-way ticket to jaded-ville, friends. Once you've seen the after effects of somebody shooting from their northern anus, nothing really shocks or inspires anymore.

But something wonderful has happened on 3rd floor.

Somebody has introduced a squatty potty to the stall of last resort.

Let me repeat that: a co-worker has purchased a piece of equipment designed to help open his colon and then left that piece of equipment permanently in place for all of his co-workers to also use and enjoy.

That guy for president of the world!

Thank you for your gift. Thank you for giving me a reason to write again. But most of all, thank you for giving my poops a silky smooth road home.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Soft launch

Yes, potty blogger is back to the important work of chronicling the poopin' and peein' of 720 California. But I return to this forum without fanfare. One long-time reader recently asked if there would be some sort of party to celebrate this blog's return.

No, there will not.

This is a soft launch. (Not to be confused with a particular type of loose stool that is known in some circles at "soft launch.") I am quietly re-acquainting myself with the sites and smells of this fine set of rest rooms.

Emphasis on the "quietly."

Just as the first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club, the first rule of is you do not approach potty blogger in a crowded office hallway and ask him if he's "seen the shit stain on four." 

And while an eye witness report that "there's a particularly gruesome deuce in the second floor Peter Brady stall" IS valuable information, that information is less welcome while potty blogger is in the middle of a conversation with his boss.

In other words: a little decorum, people. Keep those tips coming, but consider picking an appropriate moment. Lowering your voice. Or maybe an email? 

The illustration that accompanies this entry is from a long-time reader who suggested that the blog may want to consider a "kids corner" in the future. It's a wonderful suggestion and I will run by my editorial board. But in the meantime, I see nothing childish about a pencil taking a dump, so I share it with you, my mature adult readership.

Finally, another long-time reader confessed that she lost a SECOND iPhone to the toilets of 720 today. (Words with Friends is worse than heroin, friends. There are risks.)

I, for one, am proud to live in a world where I can play "JOY" for 34 points WHILE voiding myself at the same time. And if you have to replace a $500 phone every now and then for the privilege, so be it.