Checking In

Hey don't want anyone to think that I undated everything and walked away. Things have been really hectic. i am really busy with running around and everything. Check back soon for details.

Changing Not a Little

Hey guys you noticed that i have changed the look and feel of my blog. I have even changed the basic gist of it. With that being said its time that I also change the name it no longer fits. I cant think of one at the moment so i am more then open to surgestions. you can use the comment field to leave a comment wih your surgestions.

I also want to point out the links at the bottom of the page. you'll notice, Indigo Black (Comming soon) is the first link. I am planning on launching my first completly self sustained web site by the end of the summer. In turn V.0 the look will be taken down and all my post will be moved over.

The link called V.0 any questions will always be around but all relivent post will slowly but surly be repolished and moved to this blog.

So people poke around check things out and remember I want to hear from you. always feel free to email me for advice and what ever else may be on you mind at Titus.VSBII@Gmail.com

Simi Automatic Rest Rooms

So you have seem the many new advances mad to make public rest rooms more sanitary. There are the automatic soap dispensers that since when your hand is under and give you a little dab to wash ur hands, the sensing hand blowers, self flushing toilets, self flushing urinals, faucets that come on when you put your hands under and go off when you remove them, even paper towel dispensers are automatic. Its amazing to think that you can walk into a bathroom and touch only your self to come out relieved, clean, sanitized and dry.

But you have also noticed that no completely automatic bathroom exists. There is only the semiautomatic ones that create awkward moments.

Being a guy using the public restroom is already cumbersome. All those rules we had to learn in our years of going from lavatory to lavatory. We had to teach ourselves not to let our eye wonder to keep everyone else comfortable and keep us from getting into a fight. We learned to skip a urinal to keep guys with wondering eyes away from us. The courtesy flush was one we learned to keep others who could not see us from making embarrassing comments such as “What the hell was he eating?” and “OMG I’ll go find another room to use!” and finally no talking, you do not have conversation until you are at the sink (usually).

So in today’s restrooms you never know what to expect. You enter in and go to the urinal which hardly has a divider and commence taking a piss while keeping your eyes forward and junk guarded. When all is done you go to flush only to find no Handel as you are accustomed to. Just a blinking light to indicate its automatic. You then walk timidly to the sink as not to make an ass of yourself and figure out if you just put your hands under or pull a knob lift a lever or push down on the hot and cold knobs. With out think you go to get soap from the dispenser and low and behold its another automatic thing. You wave your hand under to get some soap it gives you what looks like a melting pink maggot hardly enough to clean a man sized hand. To rectify the situation you stand there like an insane person waving your hand back and forth to get an adequate amount of soap.

Just when we think the ordeal is all over and we are assured we know all the possible drying solutions we find not a hand blower but a paper towel dispenser with no lever. Once again, we wave our hand to get the right amount of towel to dry man sized hands.

To top it all off and make us almost never want to use a rest room again we see that our female friends are waiting for us.

The perfect men’s room of course would be one where everything is automatic from the door to the hand blower. It would be best if the bath room would stop accepting people once its reached maximum capacity. Or just leave it how we are used to it, completely manual and disgusting. We were trained to use those and we find it much simpler and inviting. Put frankly men are simple.

Snakes Worms and MAGGOTS!

I would say it stems from my grandmothers this fear of mine. Both are terrified of snakes yet both are southern women. Neither is fearful of mice, which I find odd, their reasoning behind it is that they pretty much grew up with them and it’s a problem they had to deal with. Both my mother and father’s mothers don’t understand how a woman could be afraid of mice and find the fear laughable.

My mother is the reverse of my grandmothers she fears mice and loves snakes. She feels she should not fear the creature that eats the thing she fears.
I on the other hand don’t fear snakes but worms and maggots could cause me a heart attack. My mother finds it comical, a boy afraid of worms and maggots. I will admit I tried the whole torture of the worms gig when I was younger but if one was to ever get on me, well I’ll leave it to you imagination. When I would find one on the side walk after it had rained I would quickly shutter and take a giant step over it quickly and allow it to continue its journey to where ever it thought it might find dirt.

You can imagine my difficulty in taking out the trash in the spring and summer. My uncle told me of a true horror story that happened to him, he and I have the same fear.
One cool summer evening my uncle had delayed in taking out the trash. So he had to do it under nightfall. In the back yard there was no light so with it being dark it could not clearly see the trash cans. Much to his dismay he soon found out that the can were covered in maggots. Just when he relized why the can appeared to be moving, he found himself to be covered. horror-struck he screamed while trying to become uncovered.

Hearing the cries for help my grand mother rushed to the back yeard to find her baby boy being attacked by evile morsels of white larvae. Screaming she at once truied to help him. The two of them standing in the backyeard in fear and trying to become free. While trying to help her son she inturn became covered and they both ended up trying to release the other.
Each and every time my uncle tries to tell this story I become so engulfed with fear that I skip past the dramatic details and ask how he became free. He would then say “I ran to the shower, then poured bleach all over the trash cans.”

My cousins and aunts would laugh hysterically at this story but I feel my uncle’s trauma. However I must admit it is quite comical.

The first and only time I went down to meet my fathers extended family, I went with my grand mother her friend and my aunt. It was the last night and in true southern tradition we went house to house to say good bye. Luckily for us everyone lived in quite close proximity.
Unfortunately, for my grandmother the field we had to cross had haughty grass and was poorly lit. me having knowledge of her fear of sneaks I formed the perfect prank. When she was distracted in conversation I took my finger and rubbed her ankle while making a hissing sound. I kid you not when I say she jumped three feet in the air. When she realized what had happened she retorted in a loving mannor, “Victor I’m a knock the shit out a you.” We all laughed harder. One time was funnie but three times were priceless. Each time was just as effective as the first. I could tell my grandmotrher was not as into it as the rest ofd us so I left it at three.

So that in a nut shell is proof that fears are hereditary.