This is it.
The last episode of our second season of PARTS UNKNOWN.
And I’m glad it’s set in Detroit. Because Detroit, for many Americans, is an abstraction—truly, if incredibly, a part unknown.
One only need look at some of our representatives who, a while back, were actually suggesting…
Looking down on clouds.
Kid President Interviews Pendleton Ward, Creator of Adventure Time!
What time is it? KID PRESIDENT TIME!
Wow. Listening to this at the gym would be EPIC.
Vegan breakfast for dinner feast. Homemade tempeh bacon, tofu scramble, oven roasted potatoes, and toast. Mmm…. #whatveganseat #veganfoodshare
Fuck you, toilet seat covers.
I didn’t come into this stall to solve a fucking Rubik’s Self-Destructing Tissue Puzzle, but that is exactly what your three stupid fucking “tear me right here to release the center piece but just a little no that’s too hard oops I’m confetti” pieces provide me with every fucking time.
I actually think confetti would be more practical. There should just be a big fucking bucket of confetti next to the toilet that I can grab and throw straight into the toilet because I think that would be just as effective as sitting on the shredder ribbons I end up with once I’m done with your fucking MENSA Paper Challenge.
Am I supposed to bring scissors? Is there some fucking incantation or rap that releases your useless fucking center? Should I just go in my pants? I feel like that would be easier and preserve twice as much of my self-worth.
And why do you even have that center part? It just gives me a fourth and larger “Bonus Round!” because there is no fucking way I’m letting that thing hang into the toilet so the toilet water can climb it up to my ass. So I’ll just tear that off too and oops thirty-fifth time’s a charm, I guess.
Fuck it, I’m going to salvage as much of you as I can, and arrange you on the seat like a fucking homemade jigsaw puzzle made by Edward Scissorhands after drinking a twelve-pack of Four Loko™.
And that should take me just long enough to convince the fucking motion sensor that I’m sitting and not surgically restoring the Shroud of Turin on this toilet seat, so when I stand up, the toilet automatically flushes and pulls the whole fucking thing in so I have to start over.
I’ll just hold it until next time I’m in Chicago O’Hare where they have that fucking Hogwarts shit on their toilets that automatically re-covers the entire seat after every flush. That makes more sense and costs less than the therapy bills.