the problem with shitting and throw up
the location we just moved to has no shitters. at all. i have to hold it in all day, 12 bowel hardening hours, untill i go home and absolutely destroy my home throne. i look like i'm about to give birth at the end of the day. i told the head dude yesterday about this and he said the porta-johns were on the way, but i have yet to see them. i have decided to start shitting in a bucket and tossing it off the side of location into where the cows graze. or shit a whole bunch, keep it, and place it in a strategic spot on the rig to cause mass vomiting. i might even join in if i'm boared. i hate to throw up. my wife says i look like i'm trying to give birth thru my mouth when i throw up. my whole body tenses and it seems evry muscle flexes, then i let out a deep gutteral roar and it shoots out of my mouth and nose with unyeilding force. it is a horrid expirence. shitting on the other hand is quite pleasureable. i love it. it is probably in my top 10 things to do, and i try to do it at least once a day. i was sick acouple days ago and my shit smelled like throw up. i could see full sized chunks of turkey and what appeared to be chewing gum. i need to chew my food better. three chomps and down the gullet. might start adding a chomp or two in. ever barfed up nachos? i have. combined with my three chomp eating style it makes for one painful ride back up. like ninjas were in my throat throwing ninja stars at my adams apple. i wish midgets were friendlier. they make everone giggle, so why cant they be nicer? i'm getting fat and i dont seem to care. or is it the shit? i have come to the conclusion that my new everyday dress will be as follows: top hat, monicle, tuxedo top with tails,cumberbun, big fake mustashe, pajama bottoms with sponge bob on them, pink bunny slippers, plastic bag filled with random keys. i will then begin every conversation with "i came here in a helicopter." with a thick english cockney accent a la monty python. i had a crazy homeless guy ask me to solve this riddle: train crossing, watch out for cars. can you spell that without any R's? i sat for awhile thinking, then gave up and asked for the answer. T-H-A-T, he said. we both at the same time broke into histerically crazy laughter. the manager of the popeye's chicken place called the cops on us.