Shitting on my best friend's shirt

When I was in middle school, I lived in San Diego and had a small circle of friends. My main best friend was a kid named Nick. Nick and I did everything together. We went fishing in the local pond many times a week. We played with Legos and built tracks for our Hot Wheels out in the dirt of the backyard. The one thing we enjoyed the most was exploring the canyons behind his house. We would get on our bikes and just go.

I was in about eighth grade at the time this memorable shitty story happened. This is not a story I tell anyone. We were at his house eating some snacks before setting out on our planned journey of the canyon. My other friend Nick was there and so was the first Nick's brother Gregory. All four of us were about to set off when I asked Nick if I could borrow a shirt of his. I cannot recall now why exactly I needed to borrow one but he lent me one and off we went.

Right from the start I knew that something was brewing in my gut. After years of getting that feeling, I had grown accustomed to what the approaching storm felt like. It gave me a certain amount of time to head to the bathroom before gunfire came blazing out my ass. This particular time I payed little attention to it and it wasn't until we were many miles from his house that thunder began to really rumble. I can remember getting to the bottom of this trail and thinking about just how far back to the house we had before I could poop. At that time the urge was not red hot but the lights were on and beginning to flash with warning. We began to peddle back up the trail and being the good friend I was, told Nick about my situation and that I was going to need the bathroom pretty soon. He laughed at me saying poop. The urge grew stronger after I announced it. It was as if telling the Nicks and Gregory about it that made the poop deep in me feel okay with putting the pressure on.

We rode and I rode faster. All the while I was distancing myself from the rest. I was looking for possible spots to get out of the view of them so I could pull my shorts and underwear down and let it rip. I remember having the thought. Every warning light was flashing now and the siren was blaring that obnoxious tone, alerting all personnel to man their battle stations. I knew I had no control any longer. I had to shit and that was that. The only shelter I could find in that instance of deprivation was a small bush on the side of the trail. I had no care for the possible rattle snake hiding in the shade of the bush nor the fear of having someone else riding up and seeing me squatted over with a river of gurgling nasty rocketing out of me. Lets just say that if this bush was on fire, I surely would have extinguished it with a thick covering of fire retardant.

This was no parable. God hadn't struck this bush with fire for Moses to find. I had exploded the contents of my lower intestine all over it. The hatch door was blown from its hinges. I remember that Gregory was the first to find me. At that point I had already done the deed. The release of that kind of pressure puts a tear in your eye. Its been said that sneezing is 1/8 an orgasm. If this is accurate, releasing a fire hydrant of hazardous chemicals out your asshole must be ¼ an orgasm.

In my urgency of getting the underwear off, I failed to see that Nick's shirt had not made it clear of the splash zone. Nor had my shorts. Nor had my underwear. I had shit dripping from my friend's shirt and running down my legs and pooling in my underwear.

There are few things in this world that compare to my humiliation that day in the canyon many miles from civilized plumbing. Emerging from behind that bush to see both the Nicks there and watching the Nick that owned the shirt I was wearing go from red faced from the heat of peddling to the red face of anger that I ruined his shirt has forever been etched into my memory.

No way was he asking for that shirt back. No way was he ever letting me borrow anything every again. We rode the many miles back to his house. I rode in the back of the pack and did not sit down the whole ride back. I was numb to the world around me. No way had that seriously just happened. No way did I just shit all over myself. I remember getting back to his house and offering my apologizes once more about the shirt. His only words to me were to put the shit shirt in the dirty pile of clothes for his mother to wash.

Now that would be some real honest information right there to have on a dating website profile of myself. It would come with a cautionary warning label that reads “Do not feed wild animal dairy products. Liquid poop will happen and it's very messy to clean up.”

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Woman shows me her boobs

Today I was in my car driving around town doing some errands or something. All the windows were down because it's kind of warm and the radio is off. I like the silence. I'm at a stoplight and this redneck mobile pulls up next to me. From the car I hear this woman screaming. She's excited about something and just screaming out the window. She clearly sees that all my windows are down so she directs her energy into my car.
Now I am right next to this woman as she's doing this but I pay her no attention. I knew that's what she wanted. So she continues to scream and I hear someone from her own party of rednecks tell her to shut up. She pays him no mind and sticks her head out the window at me and screams louder. Still, I pay her no attention.
It's at this moment I want to turn and tell her that her desperate attempt at getting the attention of a stranger is not going to work. I then think, well shit. If I do that then she wins. So I roll up the windows instead. Fast forward to the next stoplight. I'm not making this up. She gets out of the car and walks up to my window taps her stupid little finger to get my attention and begins to flap her arms around and scream like she just won the lottery or something. I look her dead in the eyes with an indifference even she could understand.
I shit you not, she takes off her shirt and bra, all while the light is still red, and begins to shake her titties at me. She looked like one of those wacky flailing arm tube men thing. Except she had the addition of boobs. Side note: do such things exists?

I was blown away by the desperation for attention this redneck woman needed but maintained a less than pleased face. The light turned green and I went about staying in front of that car until I no longer saw it. An old man once said, "Once you see one pair of titties, you've seen them all." I am going to amend that and add, "but sometimes you have to see what you don't want to see."

I woke up with the song Africa by Toto in my head

So naturally I am going to share it with you. Except there's a twist! Aha! It's a cover of the song. The cover is AMAZING!

Share it.

Why owning a dog sucks

While out for a walk with my dog, I once again had to pull grass out of his asshole. Sometimes he eats grass from the backyard and it shows up in his shit the next day. If I'm lucky it will be a ball and he can push it all out in one go. This time he didn't get it all out at once so I had to take a plastic bag and grab the danging clump of diarrhea grass from his asshole and pull it out. The two pieces were so long that as I am pulling them out he begins to squat as if to take another shit. I pulled the grass out of his asshole and it made him feel like he was shitting! This reminds me of the time I witnessed him freaking out because he had another one of those shits and he couldn't figure out what was going on. He'd go to run but the grass knot hanging out his pooper hole would pendulum and come back to touch his ass so he'd sit. I watched him do this a number of times and each time he would sit and spin his head around to get a better view of what was hitting him in the ass and sticking to his fur. Funniest shit I've ever seen.


Next time my friend who has children wants to talk about how having babies is rough, I want to remind her that at least she isn't pulling lengthy shit covered grass out of her kids asshole.

Wish I was homeless

I wish I was homeless. I think about being homeless sometimes for the simple fact that it would get me up in the morning. If I were homeless I'd love to be awakened by the sun. It's just not something that will ever happen for me. As someone who has money I have the privilege of buying curtains. Curtains aren't a thing homeless people carry around in their stolen shopping cart. A sleeping bag and maybe a molding toothbrush that they found next to the urinal in a public restroom. If I were homeless, I'd totally have a shopping cart but fill it with nothing but toothbrushes. I'd make a sign and stand on the corner. Need money to buy more toothbrushes.

Let me clarify. I'm a 28 year old and the closest I have ever actually come to being homeless is every single time I go camping. Sleeping on the ground is never comfortable. I eat can food with plastic utensils I licked clean the time before. You shit shit in those camp toilets that warn against throwing trash into where you poop, but you're camping so YAHOOO so you do it anyways. I'm practically homeless and wiping my ass with a baby wipe. 

All I'm saying is that I'd be much more productive if I could get up as early as any homeless person. Me and mornings have never agreed. It's just a part of life that I won't ever be apart of. I'd really like to be one of those old men who go to bed at seven and wake before the sun rises. Only problem with this being that I'D BE THE ONLY PERSON AWAKE.