Why do people call toilets 'rest rooms'?
I don't understand. Do you see anybody resting in this room? I don't know about you guys, but there are times when I work harder in the bathroom than I do at my actual job. Like say, after Mexican food. I don't feel awkward about it. Everybody poops.
I have never related to a television show more than the time I watched that episode of How I Met Your Mother where Marshall is too embarassed to take a shit at work. More often than not, I will go out of my way to avoid using the work toilet for anything heavier than a onesie. Like, to a point where it's probably unhealthy. What? I refuse to be judged for trying to maintain a pleasant environment for my colleagues. I tend to experiment with odd food combinations. And there are some smells that no amount of vanilla air freshener can cover.
But enough about poo. I want to talk about sex.
MUM, LOOK AWAY.
Back when MJ still worked on Mondays, he and I would often be left alone in the salon for long stretches of time with nothing to do. Nothing except talk about sex, that is. Being almost 7 years older than me and the ex-boyfriend of some pretty big weirdos, MJ's sexual history is...encyclopedic. He's got an answer for every question, I've got the dirtiest mind this side of Uluru - we're perfect together. And I could probably write a book on what I've learned about testicles.
One of MJ's main theories when it comes to sex is that the guy is always in control. I don't agree with this by any means, but am usually happy to go along with whatever MJ says - partially because of the entertainment factor, but also because I'm too much of a lazy git to bother arguing. Exhibit A:
MJ: I thought New Years Eve was a pretty good movie.
Me: You're kidding, right?
MJ: No, see because -
Me: You win.
Anyway, every once in a while he'll actually come out with something I can use. Exhibit B:
MJ: Guys love it when you wake them up by, you know...touching.
Has anyone else heard this? Is it actually true? The last time I tried testing it was at 6 in the morning when I was still drunk from the night before, and I ended up getting lost and fondling the bottom right hand corner of my own doona. Boyfriend didn't even wake up. The only thing I learnt from that life lesson is that no one is a bigger idiot than me.
And that my doona likes it rough.