I've got a problem...

I've got a problem.  Well, I have a lot of problems.  When I notice a problem, I tend to write about it.  Somehow, some way, writing about my problems helps me sort them out and make better sense of it all.  I have 2 problems I'd like to try to sort out today and perhaps you will lend me the time to do that.

First problem:  Floss picks....

Yeah, I said floss picks.  I don't really have a problem with floss picks, per se.  In fact, I find them very useful in order to maintain some kind of oral hygiene.  Anything from a pesky popcorn kernel to a piece of beef jerky tends to find itself jammed between my teeth and there is no better way to rid oneself of this problem than with a floss pick. 

In general, when I think of all of the potential floss pick users, I envision people who are concerned with their appearance.  I think of tidy individuals, perhaps with fresh breath and whiter than normal teeth.  I think this type of person appreciates the floss pick because of its convenience and simplicity.  You know, the back breaking process of opening a container of floss, pulling out the required amount of floss to properly do the job, wrapping the floss around a couple of fingers then actually having to do the flossing procedure is just often too much.  So this handy, convenient, efficient product makes everything about said product/procedure such a pleasure.....

So, why in the fuck is it that I find used floss picks just lying around wherever I go?  People care enough about their personal hygiene enough that they will bust out this device, dig around in their nasty ass mouth, probe around their jacked up gums and fish around between their nasty ass mouth, then throw the god damned thing on the ground!  Look around, you'll find 'em.

Here's the kicker.  In all of my research on the subject, used floss picks are normally found within 7.65 feet of a proper trash receptacle.  The majority of used floss picks are found on the ground in parking lots.  I've found them dexterously resting upon window sills, shopping cart handles and even salt and pepper shakers in some cafes.

The once fastidious individual I had imagined has turned into this puss oozing, canker sore having, jacked up grill sporting troll who has nothing better to do than litter....  If you are a floss pick user and you just leave them lying around after use, you're an asshole.

Second problem:  Walking around in public, digging around in your crotch....

Guys are mostly responsible for this activity, but every once in a while you'll cross an extra special female individual whom you bust knuckles deep in their innermost outers.  What in the world has gone wrong in your day that would make you feel that this activity is socially acceptable?  I don't think I've ever heard anyone say, "I really enjoy watching someone scratch their nuts." 

Folks, this is a matter of cleanliness.  A little soap and water goes a long way down south, if you catch my drift.  If you're walking around with itchy nuts, it's time for a hot shower.  If your lady bits are irritable, perhaps a soak in the tub is essential at this point.

How can you not care enough about your naughty bits to not take proper care of them?

I was in the bar business for nearly 20 years and I've been witness to a lot of shit, most of which I wished I had never seen.  I can tell you this with the highest degree of certainty.  I have never seen an individual (male or female) walk around in a bar, trying to entice someone of the opposite sex, start to scratch and itch their private parts and then pick up someone from the other sex....  It doesn't happen, people. 

Witnessing this on more than one occasion led me to the creation of one of my favorite bar games.  It's called, "Crabs or Worse".  The game is played by catching some uncouth individual partaking in his/her favorite past time and then you get to decide if it is "Crabs or Worse".

Honestly people, take a damned shower.  If soap and water can't cure it, I think they make an ointment or something.  if you can't scrape together the money/time/whatever, go to the damned corner and scratch...  what in the hell is the matter with you?  Oh, and pick up your nasty ass floss picks while you're at it.