Today I arose from a glorious drunken stupor with heavy lids and a large “boxer-bulge”. I could have been rid of my trouser power with a quick acquaintance with the palm yet I thought against it. It would make me feel dirty as it was 2:35 in the afternoon and wasn’t a proper masturbation time.

As I got into the crappy shower provided by the fine University of Wolverhampton I found myself preying for a pleasant experience. It is a belief of mine that the showers are smarter than we think. As I turned it on the sharp pain threw me against the shower wall. There has to be a motive for such an assault.

I reckon the story would go like this:

Me: What's up, man?
Shower: You should know!
Me: What?! I didn't even know you could talk!
Shower: Fine!
Me: Fuck off!
Shower: Don't you swear at me! What time do you call this?
Me: Is that it? You are So hormonal!
Shower: What!
Me: Excuse me for a sec.

Dead silence ensues as I wash my nethers.

Me: Continue-
Shower: Hormonal? HORMONAL!?! How can you expect me to not be pissed at you?
Me: Maybe the fact that I have done nothing wrong?
Shower: Nothing wrong, eh? Nothing wrong?! I haven't seen you in about 2 weeks since you
did pleasured yourself in here! You used me!
Me: Your a fucking shower. There are 6 other people on this corridor.
Shower: You are special, though.
Me: Really? Well...who's hairs are these in your plug hole, eh?
Shower: Erm.
Me: That's what I thought.

I then leave the shower

Shower: I'm pregnant!
Me: It's probably the tap's, you cheap hussy!

I slam the door and conclude the event

Other than the shower my day has been productive. I am sitting in my kitchen which I have converted into an office. I am on my swivel chair and can glide all around the room with ease. It is fucking ace! I am such a dude!