For any man that has ever said that the
girls room is always better than the boys, I introduce you to the bathroom at Monk's house of Jazz.
Now the day that I die, I want my friends and relatives to
immortalize me on the door of a restroom stall. This is for Trenton-dog who someone fucking loves. Isn't that just the most touching thing you've ever seen?
I'm thinking that the "artist" in this stall must have been next door to someone who had not learned what their tolerance level is yet. I've
definitely been in that situation, when all your trying to do is pee and the person next to you is praying to the
porcelain god's. Makes it hard to relax. You know?
Yes, fight master does live in me. How did you know?
