Tales from the work locker room

I was enveloped in nauseating horror as the bloated spectacled retiree slowly bent over while removing his not-so-tighty whiteys inch, by inch, over his bulbous rump.  My terror only increased as the geriatric moved with surprising gymnastic ability to foist a ham hock onto a groaning counter where he then doused himself with an ample amount of baby powder.  The vision of his rice grain in a thicket of powder coated pubescence will haunt me forever, I am undone.

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