Ladies

Dear ladies,

I found you sensual, elegant, polite, neat, and desirable until the first time I cleaned the women's restroom at the bar. The moment I opened the door, some small part of my soul died, and I wanted to quit on the spot. I will admit, if I ever wanted to play out an episode of CSI in real life, it would be the perfect place, but I'd really rather not. It looks like a slaughter house in there; the sink is not a proper receptacle for your used tampon. Nor is the toilet, the floor, the back of the toilet, the counter, or literally everywhere but the trash can. Oddly enough, I never have to empty used tampons out of the trash can. I don't want to finger paint with your menstruation, I just want to go home. Thank you for making my life miserable by believing that you also need an entire roll of toilet paper shoved down the toilet before you're done. Not used in pieces, no, just the entire roll, intact. The shit you took on top of it smells like bigfoot's dick, so thanks for that too. What did you wipe with? You already submerged all of the toilet paper there is. I hope you wake up tomorrow morning with skid marks on your sheets. If I ever hear you complaining about how messy guys are ever again, I will punch you in the ovaries.

Sincerely,
The Angry Door Guy