D
Deadred7o7
Guest
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
> 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 $h!t yourself'
> chili.
> Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with
> a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of
> your ass cheeks WILL fall off.
>
> Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups
> of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
> 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanero 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 just 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 of 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 always seems to
> hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
>
> The habaneros 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 take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring
> sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot. 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 that more 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
> ass 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, 'Sonofabitch!', 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. Bastards claim they're going to have
> to repaint the store.
> 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 $h!t yourself'
> chili.
> Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with
> a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of
> your ass cheeks WILL fall off.
>
> Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups
> of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
> 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanero 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 just 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 of 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 always seems to
> hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
>
> The habaneros 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 take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring
> sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot. 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 that more 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
> ass 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, 'Sonofabitch!', 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. Bastards claim they're going to have
> to repaint the store.
