I took a big crap today.
It wasn’t the world’s biggest. But it was close. Iceberg, sticking out of the water with a slightly mushy consistency. I was totally shocked. Because I was really expecting a beef stew crap – not something semi-solid and a good foot and a half long.
It was really freakin’ long. I’d like to see that little Japanese dude who swallows those hot dogs try to get his gullet around that fecal tube.
so let me tell you how this poop got to be so tremendous. Basically, I was nurturing this baby inside me for 9 months. Well, it felt that long anyway. It was like I was pregnant with a beautiful baby turd. I was sweating on the bowl and everything screaming, “PUSH! PUSH!”
It all started with Thai food. Right there, you know where I’m coming from. This was my first experience with it. It’s like sorta a combination of Chinese food and Indian food. Spicy and you know it’s gonna run right through you.
That started the gestation process.
Then I go to this bar and they have $2 Pabst Blue Ribbons. PBR for 2 bacon bits! You gotta understand, in New York City, this is a fuckin’ steal. Now I’m not a big drinker, but I am a big moron. So when this girl challenged me to a drinking contest, I couldn’t say no.
The sad thing is, I lost. I lost to a fuckin’ 110 pound girl. How sad is that?!! But this girl is no ordinary chick. Her liver has calluses. She swallowed 6 cans and her liver is like, “Is that all you got?!!” I was doomed.
But back to my crap story. I felt the rumblings, but I’m not one to go in public places. I HATE that! Especially in bars. Why are all bar bathrooms disgusting? I think it’s a conspiracy to get us to drink more. Because I had to get really drunk before I had the nerve to even piss in there. It was niZasty! It’s like when you push open the door that says “MEN” you’ve just entered this space-portal and ZOOM! Now you’re in Calcutta, India. Flies buzz around the tish-box. A camel gives you the eye as you piss. A bellydancing woman waves her hands in front of her nose to kill the stench as she struts past.
So there was no way I was gonna drop a bomb in there.
I had to hold it and hold it and hold it.
Then I was too drunk to drive home so I had to crash at a friend’s house. You would think I would fumble the football there – nu-uh. Not comfortable with that either. Sad, I know.
So it wasn’t until I got home in the morning that I could drown my troubles in the flushing springs.
All night too there were tremors of the earthquake to come. Silent but deadly tremors. I knew I was gonna crap a huge load.
When I crapped that log, a little construction worker came out of my ass and waved his orange flag and guided the barge into the harbor as it made that noise backing up, “BEEEEEEP, BEEEEEP, BEEEEEEP.”
So guys, if you wanna know when your roommate is blowin’ it up in the toilet, just listen for the BEEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP.
That’s my big crap story. I hope this doesn’t ever happen to you.
Oh, this reminds me of my most embarrassing crap story ever…
I was like 10 and in a big public park at my dad’s company picnic. I had to crap sooooo bad. It was a “too-many-cheeseburgers-and-root-beers-and-french-fries-and-ice-cream” crap. You know the kind. It’s actually gonna be nice and rock hard until you add that ice cream. Then it’s all to hell.
I had to squirt so bad I went into those gross toilets they have in the parks. There was only one toilet stall! And there was some man in it! Remember, I’m 10. I don’t want to crap my pants. Damn, I don’t want to crap my pants now either.
So I look at the stall, I look at the urinal. I feel the rumbling in my intestines. I’m sweating. I look at the stall. I look at the urinal. The rumbling isn’t going away, it’s getting worse. Oh no!
I pull my shorts down, do a 180, and crap in the urinal! Ugh! Horrible!
So this asshole who was in the stall forEVER, of course, NOW is done just as I’m walking away from the fresh caramel I manufac-turd in the urinal.
He’s like, “Hey boy, did you just take a dump in the urinal?”
“Yes you did!”
Then why did you ask, you big cocksucker?!
It turned out, (of course) that guy was one of my dad’s co-workers. Thankfully he didn’t tell my parents, but he kept winking at me like he wanted to cup my grapes or something. No, like he knew he had this big thing on me but it was “our little secret.” Whatever.