I Cross the Line, Pt. 2

Oh, man...I know I keep promising to class things up around here, but the fact is, once you get into checking FARK every day, the temptation is to take it as far as it can go.

I've mentioned FARK to you before. It's basically a depository of funny websites, updated several million times a day for the amusement of dorks, nerds, spazzes and anyone else stuck behind a computer terminal at work all day. It's where I found the charming anecdote about the man who severed his own testicles following a football (that's soccer to us Yanks) victory the other day, and it's where I found the scintillating tidibt below.

A New York man has fallen down a large hill in a portable toilet.

Looking to either buy or sell dirt, plaintiff Joseph A. Fascenelli stopped by a construction site in Katonah where defendant Eric Asher Co., Inc., was constructing three homes, according to Fascenelli v. Eric Asher Co., Inc., 1503/02.

Mr. Fascenelli spoke with a laborer then asked to use the portable toilet. After entering, he felt the toilet tip outward. It fell down a hill, causing unspecified injuries. In addition, "[e]verything was exhausted from the pot on top of me," Mr. Fascenelli testified.

If there's ever a news article written about me that gets national attention, I hope it doesn't open with the phrase "looking to either buy or sell dirt." I guess if the end of that sentence is, "...a Los Angeles man discovered a cave filled with millions of dollars and thankful porn stars." But that wouldn't make the newspaper, because I'd never tell anybody. That'd be my little secret.

But I digress. Wait, before I go back to the topic at hand, "looking to buy or sell dirt"? Which is it? Either he has dirt to sell or he fucking needs dirt. What is this guy, trading in dirt commodities? He's increasing his supply, hoping the price of dirt is going to go up? Retard.

But that's not even the funny part of the article. The guy wants to buy or sell dirt, takes a breather in a Port-a-Potty and then that mobile restroom actually takes a plunge down a hill. And then he says, "everything was exhausted from the pot on top of me," which is a very genteel way of saying, "I was covered in construction worker doody."

Which, by the way, is another sentence I'd rather not see in a news article about myself.

And now he's suing the construction company. He better make some money out of it, because in order to sue, he's had to tell the entire world about what's got to be the most disgusting, embarrassing thing that's ever happened to him. Imagine this happened to you. You go to this construction site, you use their john, you get their feces all over you...they're probably laughing, you're humiliated, you've got to scrub yourself down for hours to get that smell out. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not telling a soul about this. I'm taking this shit to my grave. Literally.

This guy sees a potential jackpot, though, so he goes off and gets a lawyer. Makes sense, though it's got to be a weird consultation. That's one of many reasons I could never be a lawyer - a potential client comes in and tells me he wants to sue the construction company that bought a faulty Port-a-Potty that spilled its contents onto my head following a traumatic fall, I'm gonna laugh. Or at least chuckle. And that's money right out the window. No, I better stick to video store clerking.