Sweet Jesus.

Im going to warn you, this is going to be a little gross.

Have you ever had one of those misfortunate incidents where you are out in the horrid public and your poor little tummy rumbles to let you know that you need to take the Browns to the Super Bowl? Your upset, and you certainly dont want to use a public bathroom for your private event, but you have to. Its one of those now or in your pants kind of events. One of those kind of events that makes you walk all bow-legged all the way to the bathroom while people watch assuming that you only walk that way because you engage in some sort of hideous sexual tendencies. You get to the bathroom "thank you jesus" you say in your head as you attempt the fastes lining of the toilet seat you can. You take the toilet tissue and surround the germ infested thrown with its sweet, thin protection and plop your little tushie down. You go to let the beast out and instead of the over whelming delite of being free from this tearony a huge mega FART erupts from within you and is only made ten times louder by the toilet seat itself. "Oh how you betray me." you think to yourself, humiliated because it just happens to be lunch time and everybody and their mother is in the bathroom. You quickly realize through the embarrisment and the snickering and the sound of the baby crying that this isnt going to be a swift bomb drop. This is going to be a horrid event. A back up at the chocolate factory and the chocolate river deems destruction. You brace yourself as the loud thunder blows. You try to quiet the thunder all that you cant, but this only seems to disturb the toilet more and in his aweful asshole-ness it only makes it louder. After the tummy has settled, you sit there for a moment. Just to make sure that the hurt in your stomach isnt one of more chocolate wealth. You realize soon that your stomach hurts due to the overwelming stench of the road kill you just gave birth to. You wipe, feeling bad for all the little trees it took to make the huge ball of toilet paper you had to use. You flush the toilet looking down at that aweful jerk and giving it a good f*ck you. You walk quietly out of the stall to the sinks. They are all looking at you. They know that you are the one who just contaminated their lungs and blew their minds. The only thing you can do now comrad is walk out of the restroom with what remains of your dignity.

\m/><\m/-Knuckles



P.S. So this reminded me of an event that happened to me a few days ago. I was called to jury duty and out of 50 people I was one of six jurors picked. My fellow jurors were well, three women over the age of 60 and two men over the age of 40, and me. Makes sense, I don't know. But during the lunch break my friend asks me if I want to go with her to a pizza place while I am waiting for this awful event to continue. I go and quickly regret it as I sit in the jurors box during the case. While the lawyers are up doing their blady-blah-blah, one snuck out of me. One of those silent an deadly mother-f*ckers. It couldn't me helped, there was nothing that I could do. Oh and it stank up the whole court room. They just kept coming all during the case. This made me entirely grateful for the jurors that they picked. I would never be suspected of this awful deed amongst three old ladies and two middle aged men. Not guilty.