The Birth of PORTA-POTTY SPLASHBACK
Hello. Welcome to my blog, I am Tim Rayburn,
and you are not.
Let me start this all off with how I came up
with the name of this blog.
Nine years ago, when I was just a young lad of
seventeen, I was in a youth employment program
run by the province of Ontario. I would get
paid by my boss($8.00 an hour) who then would
be fully reimbursed by the province. So as you
can imagine, in my boss's eyes, I was slave
labour.
I had a summer job here in Ottawa as an
interior and exterior painter. I had already
been on a few job sites, and was getting the
hang of professional painting, and learning
lots, mostly how to preserve paint.
My boss (who I will leave unnamed unless it is
requested) always insisted that we carry two
items with us. A rag, for paint wiping
purposes, and a putty knife, for paint scraping
purposes. I kept one tool in one back pocket,
and the other tool in the other back pocket.
We were painting the interior of a nice house
in Manotick. I had been drinking the night
before and had what is commonly know as Beer Shits.
Unfortunately, there were no working bathrooms
in this place, so I had to run to the Port-
Potty on the front lawn. So I get in this green
box and really, its not that bad. If I was to
rate this Porta-Potty with the others I have
been in, I would give it a 5 out of 10, it even
had a urinal/Barf Bin, whichever you prefer.
So I dropped trow and took a well placed seat.
There was not much negotiating time, like I
said, I had a few too many pops the night
before, and things were happening very quickly.
Then it happened, right in the middle of all
this fun, I get, you guessed it, Porta-Potty
Splashback. I was devastated. Within one second
of the incident, I freaked. Imagination running
wild, I could not comprehend what just
happened, and what the consequences were. So,
in this time of total disarray, I did what I
think anybody would do, and whipped up my pants
at an incredible rate. Well, I forgot
something. I forgot about the putty knife in my
back pocket. For when I pulled my pants up, it
sliced a two inch long gash, right on my ass.
So, within a 1.5 second time frame, not only
did I get Porta-Potty Splashback, but I also
cut my ass with a putty knife. Not only is this
the worst bathroom experience ever, but it could
be one of my worst life experiences to date.
I could not decide on the name for this blog:
Porta-Potty Splashback
or
Cut My Ass With A Putty Knife
And so, I chose the greater of two evils, and
Porta-Potty Splashback was born.
and you are not.
Let me start this all off with how I came up
with the name of this blog.
Nine years ago, when I was just a young lad of
seventeen, I was in a youth employment program
run by the province of Ontario. I would get
paid by my boss($8.00 an hour) who then would
be fully reimbursed by the province. So as you
can imagine, in my boss's eyes, I was slave
labour.
I had a summer job here in Ottawa as an
interior and exterior painter. I had already
been on a few job sites, and was getting the
hang of professional painting, and learning
lots, mostly how to preserve paint.
My boss (who I will leave unnamed unless it is
requested) always insisted that we carry two
items with us. A rag, for paint wiping
purposes, and a putty knife, for paint scraping
purposes. I kept one tool in one back pocket,
and the other tool in the other back pocket.
We were painting the interior of a nice house
in Manotick. I had been drinking the night
before and had what is commonly know as Beer Shits.
Unfortunately, there were no working bathrooms
in this place, so I had to run to the Port-
Potty on the front lawn. So I get in this green
box and really, its not that bad. If I was to
rate this Porta-Potty with the others I have
been in, I would give it a 5 out of 10, it even
had a urinal/Barf Bin, whichever you prefer.
So I dropped trow and took a well placed seat.
There was not much negotiating time, like I
said, I had a few too many pops the night
before, and things were happening very quickly.
Then it happened, right in the middle of all
this fun, I get, you guessed it, Porta-Potty
Splashback. I was devastated. Within one second
of the incident, I freaked. Imagination running
wild, I could not comprehend what just
happened, and what the consequences were. So,
in this time of total disarray, I did what I
think anybody would do, and whipped up my pants
at an incredible rate. Well, I forgot
something. I forgot about the putty knife in my
back pocket. For when I pulled my pants up, it
sliced a two inch long gash, right on my ass.
So, within a 1.5 second time frame, not only
did I get Porta-Potty Splashback, but I also
cut my ass with a putty knife. Not only is this
the worst bathroom experience ever, but it could
be one of my worst life experiences to date.
I could not decide on the name for this blog:
Porta-Potty Splashback
or
Cut My Ass With A Putty Knife
And so, I chose the greater of two evils, and
Porta-Potty Splashback was born.
2 Comments:
So this is why you stand instead of sit when the beer shits hit!
You know, that is right up there with when you almost bailed at the cottage outhouse when the sparrow dive bombed you! That was also a classic Tim moment.
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