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Holy crap, I'm totally making a PDF out of this and sending it to my gf, she'll laugh her ass off

Me ... I haven't had any poop disasters. I have the uncanny ability to get to a toilet before I poop myself. Take, for example, 5 March 2005. My boss and I were talking to a good customer. I had just eaten a nice, greasy, half-pound hamburger. My stomach suddenly started to reject the recent meal. Apparently, my mouth was the only part of my body that liked said burger.

Now, normally I would have calmly walked to the bathroom in the back of the store done my business. This was not a normal situation: my boss had retrieved his jacket and was on his way out of the store to go home, leaving me alone in the shop with a customer who had a metric fuckton of questions. I was starting to sweat as the questions poured out of the guy's mouth ... I'm sure I was turning red. I felt a pocket of gas brewing in my rectum, but I didn't dare let it out; I feared the worst would happen if I did.

After what seemed like an hour of incessant badgering, the customer turned around and left. There was still half an hour until closing time and I was the only one in the shop ... ah fuck it, I locked the door, taped my "BACK IN 10 MINUTES" sign to it, and waddled at top speed to the bathroom in the back of the shop. As soon as my ass hit the toilet seat, I had a tremendous assplosion that nearly sent me flying through the damn ceiling. I swear, I thought I was going to go into orbit. If anyone else was in the store, they probably would have run into the back and tried to break the door down to see if I was still alive and in one piece. Thankfully, the force of the blast took the massive ball of shit with it into the bottom of the toilet (no shen, it looked like a brown ball of pancake batter), minimizing the smell and the impact on the white porcelain of the toilet. A few wipes later, I was good to go.
What would Raptor Jesus do?
Old 03-14-2005, 09:37 PM evildre is offline