This story
is not for the easily offended, but for the easily amused, so if you have a
good sense of humor and don’t get easily offended by bad words and a little bit
of “toilet” humor then sit right back and enjoy the show.
Now if you
happen to be one of those tight-ass individuals who takes everything seriously,
and who is afraid to crack a smile, then you may want to move along because
there is nothing here for you to see.
This is an
actual conversation I had with my girlfriend the other night, believe it or not
this is what passes for normal conversation in our house, and no, our house is
not the psychiatric ward at Bellevue…but in all honesty it’s not far from it.
Before I get to the conversation, I have to let you know
what lead up to it so you can better understand what was going on, and so that
you can know that we aren’t totally out of our minds.
My stomach
was hurting, for reasons I don’t know, but it was hurting, and hurting bad.
It kind of
felt like someone dropped kicked me in my breadbasket, with cleats on, and that
“someone” just happened to be of the larger variety, if they were a candy bar
they would be the king size…if you catch my drift.
As a result
of this pain I had to keep running to the bathroom, and a couple of times I
just barely made it.
Sometimes
it felt as if I was running a relay race, but instead of being handed a baton,
I was handed a fresh new roll of toilet paper, 2 ply of course because I wouldn’t
have it any other way.
There was a
few times during my shitscapades where I almost filled my Batman underroos with
some warm chocolate corn pudding, not a nice feeling at all, as I’m sure you
can imagine.
As soon as
I sat down on the pot my ass would fire off a vicious shot, one that sounded
like a canon going off, and if anything just happened to be in the way of the
blast, all I can about that, is may God have mercy on your soul.
When all
was said and done it looked as if I blow up one of those M&M guys in the
toilet, a candy coated crime scene…call in CSI: Mars!
There were
chocolate and peanut chunks everywhere, and it definitely smelt as if killed
something too, sorry Yellow or Red, whoever it was who made the sacrifice.
After a
while it hurt to sit down.
I was
experiencing some serious fire in the hole; it felt as if someone shoved a lit
candle up my ass, and twisted it like a screwdriver.
As the
evening went on my anus started getting worn out, it was hanging out my
backside like Snuffleupagus’ trunk, and it was just as sad.
It
eventually came to be bed time, and I wasn’t really sure what to expect considering
how my evening was going.
I warned my
girlfriend before getting into bed that I may just “shit” on her during the
night, but if I did it wasn’t my fault and couldn’t be held accountable, it was
something that was completely outside of my control.
She of
course freaked out, you know how chicks are, and said, “If I shit on her it
will be the last time we sleep together”!
I proceeded
to tell her that if I did indeed shit on her it wouldn’t have been on purpose, I
had no way to control my ass muscles while I was sleeping, so something may
just shoot out.
She didn’t
really care for that explanation either and told me, “To ask my friends if they
would like to be shit on, and how would they feel if they were”.
My response
was, “I don’t really know, maybe something of them are freaky like that and would
enjoy it, but trust me, if I did happen to shit on you it wouldn’t be of a sexual
nature”.
As you
could expect that didn’t really go over all that well with her either, so
needless to say she sent me out on to the couch, where if I did bust ass in my
sleep there would be no innocent causalities.
I
eventually fell asleep, and thankfully no one was shit on, so we continue to
sleep together…at least for now.
MJM