Post by *~*Breezy*~* on May 8, 2008 21:18:35 GMT -5
This isn't a poem or a short story, but whateva. ^^Funnneee joke though!.
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether
sure that said course of action was a wise one. You see,
the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive
quantity of my patented 'You're definitely going to mess
yourself' chili.
Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which
comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the
next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and eve
after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean)
nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite
habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal
tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder
and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure
of when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart
grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I
selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in
for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end o
the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh,
don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about.
I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that alway
seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain
was different. The habaneras in the chili from the night
before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom
they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing
their way into the large intestines, and before I could ta
one step in the direction of the restrooms which would brin
sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning
hot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly
enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never
before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear thatmore of this vile odor might escape me.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower
part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of
it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what
her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that
refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting.
Have you ever been torn in two different directions
emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you
at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor
woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an
invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so
terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses
and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms
about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This
, of course , made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.
Mistake.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things
'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new
guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region.
Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few
folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was
robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I
raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying
down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before
the grand mal assplosion took place. Luck was on my side.
Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat
because my butt is burning SO BAD, purging.
One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what
is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging
sound, and disgustedly said, ' Oh my God!', then quickly
left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially
filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a
store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want
to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some
prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is
going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which
ought to take care of the problem.'
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to
escape me.The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling
his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an
accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning
moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously
escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to
return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was
nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more
bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't
say anymore about that because we are in court over the
whole matter. They claim they're going to have to repaint
the store.
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether
sure that said course of action was a wise one. You see,
the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive
quantity of my patented 'You're definitely going to mess
yourself' chili.
Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which
comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the
next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and eve
after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean)
nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite
habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal
tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder
and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure
of when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart
grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I
selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in
for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end o
the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh,
don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about.
I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that alway
seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain
was different. The habaneras in the chili from the night
before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom
they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing
their way into the large intestines, and before I could ta
one step in the direction of the restrooms which would brin
sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning
hot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly
enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never
before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear thatmore of this vile odor might escape me.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower
part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of
it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what
her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that
refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting.
Have you ever been torn in two different directions
emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you
at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor
woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an
invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so
terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses
and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms
about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This
, of course , made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.
Mistake.
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things
'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new
guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region.
Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few
folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was
robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I
raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying
down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before
the grand mal assplosion took place. Luck was on my side.
Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat
because my butt is burning SO BAD, purging.
One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what
is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging
sound, and disgustedly said, ' Oh my God!', then quickly
left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially
filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a
store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want
to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some
prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is
going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which
ought to take care of the problem.'
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to
escape me.The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling
his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an
accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning
moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously
escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to
return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was
nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more
bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't
say anymore about that because we are in court over the
whole matter. They claim they're going to have to repaint
the store.