Slip 'N Splooge!

I'm not sure why we as men draw dicks in our own restrooms but, welcome to the magical land of Dick Fountains!

Where throbbing veins spurt jizz like volcanoes.

Where no umbrella is safe from being stained and collapsed down upon its holder.

Where the roads are all white topped.

Okay, I'm out of jizz jokes. Enjoy all that is 4 Dick Fountains!

And it burns, burns, burns.

It's Monday.

Apparently, somebody was a big fan of the 1992 Twin Peaks movie.

I never got the show but somebody drunk on Zima must have. I've never been so hammered I wanted to write the name of my favorite movie on a bathroom wall. I'm not sure how "Leonard Part 6" would look in my handwriting.

Sorry, it's Monday, the funny/commentmeter is on zero. I need crack.

Pederasts of the World Unite!

Who says 21 is the legal drinking/skirt chasing age?

Let's get some children involved in this party.

Jack Daniels, a Fruit Roll-Up and a rape van are all you need for a good time. Shit, that's a $200 bucks investment that will pay for itself.

Whoooooo, needs legal women? Shit at 21, girls nowadays have already been drinking 6 years. That's why you aim for 13, two shots and they'll be passed out, which is half the job right? The other half is finding an unlit street corner to drop them off on.

Hell, let's get some infants?!

Bingo was his name-o!

Poor penmanship, poor lighting and a lumpy wall make for a shitty photo, so here's how today's Shit Talking photo reads, "Jesus Loves You. Yes I know!! If he hollers, let him go, Bingo was his name-o."

Over the five years I've collected these images, I've found a lot of religious references.

Why? Is there something holy about taking a shit? Is the new church a bar bathroom stall?

While you're dropping the Cosby kids off at the pool, do you think to yourself, "You know what, the people in this bar are evil, evil, evil, devil horned, boozed up, skirt chasing, ass grabbing, down shirt looking, bulge judging, charlatans. Why did I come here? Why did I come to this sinners den of flesh and hops? You know what I'm going to do, tell everybody in here that Jesus loves them and that will stop all this adultery and debauchery. Let me just dig into my pocket while my ass is on this piss soaked toilet seat and my pants are around my ankles and find a pen. Okay here we go. Jesus Loves..."

Holy shit!

Muy pequeño burrito!

Wednesday is Reader Submission Day. Wooot!!!!

Another fine entry from John Jacobsen this week. And also the first piece of actual "bathroom art" we've received here at Just Shit Talking headquarters.

These three amigos were not impressed with the size of John's chalupa. Come on John, get some eXtenze.

Suck it Sesame Street!

According to www.sesamestreet.org...

"Grover is a valiant, caring blue monster who is chock-full of childlike exuberance. The boisterous little monster often gets himself into pickles by rushing into situations without weighing the consequences."

Somebody is either pissed at Grover or is looking for a little man on Muppet action.

Go suck yourself Grover, you don't have any ribs!

An American Wet Dream

Lock up your daughters!

I'm perplexed by this one. If America is a pleasure device that has gone all haywire and become essentially an unending orgasmatron, is there something wrong with this?

While productivity across the board may suffer and some soreness will occur, is there really a problem here?

This nation is built on the belief that no matter what you're into, you can get your jollies off to it here. The only thing that usually stops us from going at "it" 24-7 is physical limitations. But wait, now you're telling me there's a berserk country full of good vibrations, fun, joy and orgasms on the loose 24-7? Who doesn't want to take a ride on that?

America, Fuck Yeah!

Welcome to Friday!

Everybody uses one—in one way or another.

So, here's a salute to the under appreciated DICK.

Enjoy your weekend. Enjoy your dick.

He's Part Bear. He's Part Man. He's Bear Man!

Able to rip an arm off of a child in a single swipe.
Able to kill a trout like some kind of mammalized version of a mouse trap.
Able to shit in the woods.
Able to wear a jumpsuit and maintain a steady 9 to 5 job down at the loading dock.

Fuckshitdamn! It's Bear Man!

I Heart Life vs. I Heart Life!!

One week it's all about fries, shakes, and burgers. The next it's all about fries, shakes, burgers and bongs.

Then the next it's about misspelling "Dirty" and Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

John Jacobsen captured these images some where in the fringes of Bloomington a couple of weeks apart from one another. "Someone 'innovated' the otherwise perfect graffiti. Nice job, retard. What does this even mean?"

What does this really mean? Anybody want to drop a clue?

And what the fuck is with all the 3rd grade hand writing? Who's letting children into bars and port-o-potties alone with markers and crayons? The more I do this blog the more I realize people's handwriting is shit.

The Most Important Meal of The Day

Every once in a while when I'm snapping photos for Just Shit Talking, I run across something that just makes no sense—this is one of those things.

I'm not sure if this was a note from a juvenile squabble, a lyric from the newest Lil' Wayne, Flo Rida jam, or is it some kind of semi-sly reference to human defecation and its eerie similarities to that of a sausage link.

Whatever you take away from this, just know there is one hungry, donut-less, probably sausage-less person out there.

P.S. Mad props for the Toilet Bear drawing.

Caught Mid-Sh..

I hate it when I don't finish a thought.

Although, this really seems like a great chance to play Fill in the Blank...

"I Don't_____"
a. know why mom's car smell like deviled eggs and toe jam.
b. want this shitty bar to play any more of that blasted Lady Gaga shit.
c. hate the game just the player.
d. iron my shirts because I have a certain aesthetic to uphold.
e. wanna watch some guy wash his junk in the sink.

Play along, submit your favorite "I don't"s.

While I'm out of town...

While I'm off to a wedding in the Wilds of Wisconsin this weekend on the wings of midWESTERN jet. I leave you with some advice.

Take heed. This city will kill you.

Call me so i can make it juicy for ya

Watch yo ass, it's time for Lil Whoop Ass Wayne.

You will be stabbed if you take his seat.

Stabbed.

Now let's get all crunk, drink some purple drank and start flossin' on Lawson.

Fart!

High Life. Ass. Gas.

What else is there to say?

Okay, one thing can be said.

If I were an alien, illegal or outer spacetual, who had just arrived in America and learned about two things and two things only—women and beer—this image would freak my shit out. Because either the women are some kind of race of micro-woman or the beer is F-in huge. The latter, awesome. The former, scary.

Just think, a flock of micro-women, (because what else do you call a group of them?), running around, launching surprise attacks on communities. Demanding mini-muffins and skorts. A dash of white rain and mini leather handbags.

The Midwest would be first to fall.

Barbie clothes would be sold out.

A nation of non-micro women would grow up with the perception that being naked is okay because their Barbies were naked growing up. And in 20 years time the only people to have clothes will be a rebel alliance of the uppity.

These micro-women must be stopped?

He helped Joshua fight the battle of Jericho, he helped Daniel get out the lion's den, he helped Gilligan get off the island.

Yesssa! We gonna be talking about the Devil todayah!

He's one mean sonofagunah! His name, should strike fearah! See, now!

Take the "D" offa tha Devil's name and what do you have? You have "evil". Ahh yes, the Devil he is "evil". Yes he is! I'm here to tell you he is.

Now take the "E" off of "evil" and what do you have? "vil". Ahh yessah. The Devil he is "vil".

Now take the "V" off of "vil" and what do you have? Ahh, you have "il". And that's how the devil is gonna leave you, "il". He's gonna leave you feeling low, feeling down, feeling like a sour bellied rat in an outhouse.

Now, let's take the "I" off "il" and what do you have? "l" and that's straight where you're going if'n you don't repent. Repent! Repentah!

Well ya look kinda cute to me, I think we can achieve this, plus you act like you need this

Shitty bars stay shitty. Why do we keep going back to them?

Sometimes it's cheap beer. Sometimes it's location. Other times it's about just wanting to bang the new bartender.

Apparently somebody approved of the new girl and wanted to tip her with his tip. Just the tip.

Happy Friday.

Never Forget. Never. Ever. Forget.

There are some things we should never forget.

The first time you eat a cucumber.
That time you got your dick smacked at a ping pong tournament.
Falling out a 1st story window drunk.

All of these things are awesome.

Never Forget.

Wednesday Reader Submission—The Man, The Myth.

Wednesday is going to become reader submission day. So, submit your shit.

This week's entry comes from Jess Tedder. A fine, upstanding gentleman from the Queen City. A man who knows his way around a corn liquor jar.

"The photo is from the bathroom on my floor at work. It has been in place for over 7 years now. When I run into guys that no longer work for us, they will often ask if 'Loogey McFart' is still there. It is written in the centimeter wide space between two tiles."

A perfect name. Loogey McFart CEO of Shit Talking.

Getting all deep.

Sometimes shit talking gets a little 6th-grade-girl-back-of-the-notebook-emo-y.

This is one of those times.

Not sure what disturbs me more:
a). This was in a men's room.
b). It was written in lipstick.
c). It's at shitting level.

I think I have to go with C.

Somebody actually took time from "dropping the Cosby kids off at the pool"—see previous post—to turn out this bad Cure lyric? Really? Really? Come on.

Hey Monday, SUCK IT!

Everything has gone to shit today. The phones are down, the internet is off and the only way I'm able to post this is from a slow ass connection at one of America's Bread Makers and over priced sandwich/bagel shops.

So Monday. BLAH! TO! YOU!