So last post we discussed shitters in Japan. This time let’s talk about the “thrones” in the Philippines. First, if it’s a public shitter, you’ll never have to worry about getting bitched out for leaving the seat down, because THERE IS NO SEAT!!! Think that’s bad? There’s no TP either! What do folks use instead? If you’re in the mall, I haven’t figured it out yet. If you’re an office setting there’s a bucket of water with a smaller ladle-type-thing. Use your imagination. If there does happen to be T.P. it seems folks don’t know what to do with it. Oh, they get the wipe your ass part but haven’t figured out that you’re supposed to flush the shit-crusted tissue down the tube with the turds. Instead they put the used T.P. into the trash can next to the throne. I guess it’s so hot here they think that their shitlogs don’t need “blankets” for their trip down the tube. The T.P. in the can gets stacked to the top of the trash can because janitorial services aren’t exactly top notch here. I’d give my left nut for a Mexican janitor.

So I figured moving into our brand spanking new office would be somehow different. WRONG. First, it smells like a truck stop bathroom. Next, well, fuck it, a picture is worth a thousand words:

I’ll never shit in my office again. Hovering my fat (read American here in the Philippines) ass over a bowl is NOT a comfortable way to shit. Now I know how chicks feel. How the hell am I supposed to get my moment of Zen?

I really try not to get all anti-Filipino over here. Yes, it’s very different from the States. Yes, the non-confrontational way of folks gets on my nerves. Yes, going to a department store and seeing 30 people working in one section and finding that NONE of them are worth a fuck is very frustrating. There’s a lot of jokes I’ve heard about how this is a third-world nation and the people are all backward and uncivilized. I’ve actually heard F.F.T.T. used as a joke. It stand for Fresh From The Trees. Ouch. 99.99% of the time I totally disagree with this. The people I’ve met and worked with are intelligent, hard-working, honest, and civilized. But I GOTTA wonder about the toilet situation! In our last office my gf was bitching about how dirty the WOMEN’s bathroom was. She said she was using the men’s room b/c it was cleaner. What!?! I had to check it out. Sure enough, she was right. The women’s room was DISGUSTING. I did some digging and found out that the women in our office didn’t sit on the can (even though I made damn sure ALL toilets had seats). Instead they put their feet up on the seat and squatted down spraying piss all over the seat. Then they wouldn’t use the T.P. that I made sure was in every bathroom. Instead they somehow used the bucket of the water and the ladle thing and made a total mess! Come on Philippines! You’ve come so far, so fast! Get with the rest of the world! Use TOILET PAPER! Use TOILET SEATS! A close up of my one and most likely ONLY dump ever in the new office says what I think of how toilets work in your country:

So after the office episode yesterday, this morning I looked forward to dropping a load in my killer condo. Even though the master bathroom is huge and the toilet has one of those asshole washers, I prefer the bathroom out by the living room. Know why? Because it has what every man wants in his bathroom:

That’s right, I’ve got a urinal! So the entire wall next to the toilet is a mirror. Pretty pimp. This is where I sit and do my morning thinking and come up with the shit I post on this site. So with the aforementioned mirror right next to me I figured I’d do a self-portrait. Fuck it, famous artists do it so why can’t I?

Christ otter. I bought a $1000 membership to the pimpest gym in town at the Shangri-La Hotel. Yes, sounds cheezy but this is the nicest hotel in the country. It’s uber-pimp. The gym is bad-ass, my membership gets me free use of the resort-quality pool, and of course I get to use the tennis courts. Heh, as a side note on the economy I found out today that renting 3 tennis balls for an hour costs MORE than renting a human being. The ball-boy for the hour is cheaper than the tennis balls! Back to my fat ass. Looking at this pic I realized I’ve grown a world-class gut. I’m not at my worst. That was where I was when I met my gf and I promptly lost 35 pounds. But I’ve put 20 of it back on and it sucks balls. Sure the women I party with never mention I’ve put on a few pounds (not if they want their tip in the morning!) but with that pic I can’t deny it anymore. Fuck it, most of it came in the last month in the US when I gorged myself on Americana Food that I knew I’d be missing. Well that’s gone. I spent so much fucking money on this gym membership there’s no way I’m not gonna go. I’m cheaper than I am lazy!

Well, can’t talk this much about my time on the can without posting the results. Some lovely two-tone action going:

So I’m torn. I finally wrote a decent post (see below). Like a good long one that I felt was an entertaining read. I was so proud of it I put it up on the home page of ConsumptionJunction.com. Problem is, I was so jetlagged I got lazy. I hotlinked the images of the editorial from the DailyDumps server. Bad idea. I wasn’t thinking. See, this site is brand spanking new. I’d be surprised if it gets 10 visitors a day. I’ve got this site on a buddy’s server. CJ on the otherhand, gets 1,224,617 visitors a day. CJ is load balanced across 9 bad-ass servers. Pulling the images for the editorial on CJ from the DailyDumps server was a very, very bad idea. I killed the server. The worst is, this is my buddy Mike’s server. Sorry Mike, I’ll put a plug for you on CJ and here. Folks, CHECK OUT THE-FEEDING-TUBE.COM !!! It’s a killer, totally free site with all the happenings of hot as balls and/or nekkid celebrities. Anything celeb, they’ve got it.

I’m also very proud of myself. We went to a great whore-house in Manila tonight. I managed to not only not drink, but turn down the two HUGE titted chicks that wanted me to spend a measly $40 to bring them home and fuck the ever loving shit out of them. Damn, well done Marc! Of course, they know the exact date and time that my gf’s flight gets in. Thirteen days and counting. I’ve got them all lined up and ready for her.

Perhaps since I was so torn I produced the dump below. It is a Fluffy Dump but it appears to be crying down the drain:

Since I’m going not to be back in the US of A until mid-April, I had to hit my favorite taco stand before I left San Diego. La Post Latina has the best fucking carne asada on earth. In true “fuck the diet, I’m traveling” spirit, I ordered up the Carne Asada Burrito Especial which is basically a quesadilla used to wrap up a huge burrito. So instead of one tortilla, the carne asada, guacamole, salsa, sour cream and cheese are surrounded by a tortilla, a layer of melted cheese, and another tortilla. It’s like the Mexican’s got tired of getting fucked by Montezuma’s Revenge and created a burrito specifically designed to give Gringo’s diarrhea.

As usual so I don’t get mega-jetlagged, I stayed up all night before the trip packing and left San Diego at 4AM to drive up to Los Angeles to catch my flight out. I make it up to LA around six in the morning. I stop by McDonald’s for breakfast. At this point I’m already ripping the most horrible farts. There were two homeless guys in the upstairs dining room sleeping. My creeping death air biscuits actually woke them up. You know it’s bad when a bum tells you that you stink.

Getting checked in and obtaining a boarding pass was a real bitch. As I’m picking up my bags to put them on the scale, the strain just about drains my bowels of all gas in one lethal launch. I felt like such a bastard. “Excuse me mam, I know you’re trying not to pass out from the stench I just forced you to endure, but would you mind checking to see if there’s an exit row seat available for me?” I’m surprised she didn’t give me my own row after experiencing first-hand the nasal damage I can inflict.

To ensure I didn’t get murdered at 30,000 feet I hit the toilet before boarding and forced out what I could. It was a stinky, juicy Fluffy / Hershey Squirt dump that took forever to deliver. Why no picture? Fucking technology robbed me! I get up to take the pic, I’m lining it up, I start to hit the shutter button, and the fucking toilet flushes itself! The infrared sensor noticed I’d left the seat and decided to send my submission to Davey Jones’ Locker.

I’m glad I forced some production before I boarded as the guy I wound up sitting next to for ten hours was pretty cool. We’re shooting the shit, talking about me working on the internet. I don’t tell him who I am as I’m too tired to get into telling stories from the glamorous wonderful word of an internet pornographer. Eventually we’re talking about how I “run entertainment websites that make money by selling ads” and he starts asking questions about the business side of it. He’s like “so sometimes I’ve seen videos that people can click, like on one site I go to all the time: ConsumptionJunction.com”. I just start cracking up. I ask if he visits that site often. Turns out he’s a daily visitor. I explain I’m the founder of the site. Turns out he’s a huge fan. So I’m glad I wasn’t ripping bombs on him all night.

I make a three hour layover in Japan go by quickly by eating some killer Udon noodles with shrimp tempura on top. I head over to the “day spa” where you can take a full shower for only $5. Finally it’s time for boarding. Folks, I gotta point something out here that may sound racist. Japanese people that work in the airline industry are fucking stupid! Every time I fly through that airport I wonder how the fuck the Japanese get the rep of being so damn smart. Last time I flew through they had like 300 people lined up heading in one direction. The woman working the gate goes around the curve of the hallway to the far opposite side of where everyone is lined up. She holds a sign “now boarding rows 60 and higher”. Of course, this mental midget is around the corner for where everyone is AND she’s got the sign facing away from everyone. They won’t start boarding until everyone lines up the way they want but she’s 100% invisible to the crowd of passengers. I go over and suggest that maybe she should take the sign to where everyone is or AT LEAST turn the fucking sign around so people can see it. She ignores me. After ten minutes some “senior management” person realizes I might be onto something and goes to retrieve the sign and walk it thru the crowd of people. DUH. I couldn’t resist a big fat “I TOLD YOU” as the first twat walks by.

So this time, they decided fuck bothering with any type of order. They board the first class and then say “now boarding economy class”. That’s it. No order. No trying to fill the back of the plane first. Just “if ya got a ticket, get your ass on the plane”. So of course it takes forever to board and the flight leaves thirty minutes late. This is supposed to be a society that’s known to be big into rules, organization, and efficiency. Shit, the lazy ignorant fucks in the Atlanta airport have more sense than the Japs.

I got into the Philippines around 11:30PM last night. I head to the office to say hello to the night shift and do a quick scan of my emails. I show the crew this site. They’re properly grossed out and curious. Ten minutes later I feel a butt-brew knocking on my back door. I tell them I’m out as I’ve gotta go “make a post to my site” which is my now my standard way of saying I gotta take a dump. As I expected, all that junk food I gobbled up during the twenty-something hours of travel time made for a creative contribution to the Manila city sewers!

Fortunately, we have a really phat apartment. It’s got two bedrooms and four toilets! My master bedroom used to be two bedrooms and they converted into one. So it’s got like a living room area in the bedroom and two walk in closets, each which are attached to full bathrooms. One bathroom for me and one for the hookers! Best of all, all the toilets have the best invention ever:

I call the gf, let her know I’m fine and then crash. I’m fucking exhausted. I got like six hours total sleep on the plane but it wasn’t comfortable and I’d been up for like forty-eight hours. I’m asleep for exactly three minutes and seven seconds when I hear “MARC, GET UP! WE KNOW YOU”RE HERE, WE BROUGHT YOU TITS!!” Shit, so much for sleep. See, there’s a whole crew of American’s over here in Manila. Lots of my dirty internet pornographer buddies. One of them apparently had keys to the corporate apartment. They came in with seven hookers. One, hand-picked for me because of her ginormous fun bags was eager to meet me. See if you can guess which one is her:

And here’s what I looked like right after they woke me up:

So, everyone was massively disappointed to hear that I’m 1) too exhausted to party, 2) that I’ve quit drinking, and 3) that I’m refusing to play with hookers till my gf gets there. My buddy Terrence was like, but I bar-fined that huge tit chick just for you! The not cheating on my gf took the most explaining. I had to explain that my situation is different. It’s not that my gf would have a problem w/ me fucking hookers. She would just be pissed that she missed it. I got them to accept it when they understood that my gf would be here in twelve days and I promised that we could all play together when she gets here. Besides, I was exhausted and my buddy Ryan was asleep upstairs in the spare bedroom and I didn’t want to wake him up with the auditory assault that accompanies me fucking five hookers.

I am pretty fucking proud of myself as some these were real hotties:

So that’s about it. A day in the life of Marc Now I’m going to call my assistant to get him to bring me Starbucks, then heading to Makati Cinema Square to buy a shit-ton of movies on DVD for a whopping $1.10 a pop. Buying every movie nominated for an Oscar will cost less than a latte at a Starbucks in the USA! Fuck I love this country!

I knew it would happen. She acted grossed out at first. But I kept taking her to DailyDumps to help her learn how to build her own site (SheysWorld.com). Today is proud day. Just as I was heading to the office, which is behind the kitchen and right next to the upstairs bathroom, the gf comes out with a loud “oh my god!”

She said she normally isn’t into this but she’d just produced something truly noteworthy. See above. I didn’t even know she’d started taking a peek into the bowl before flushing. I’m so proud. Check out this dump. It’s an Alphabet Soup dump. It’s a Hangover Dump. It’s a Fluffy Dump. All wrapped into one!

Man, you know you’re getting old when your hangovers last several days. I felt like ass all day yesterday. This morning after drinking my morning latte I had to literally run to the throne. The dump above is both a Fluffy Hangover dump. It took all of fifteen seconds to come out. Violent dump.

So yeah, I’m not going to drink anymore. Aside from that, posts may be a bit erratic for a while. I’m preparing to head to Manila for a month. I leave Thursday morning. I’ve gotta drive from San Diego to Los Angeles, take a 13 hour flight to Japan, sit around for a two hour layover, then fly another four and a half hour flight to Manila. I’ll get there just before noon on Friday.

Given how shitty airline food is these days, I should have some fairly creative posts coming up. Hopefully I’ll be able to drop a load into the blue airplane bowl