Pound that monkey hole
Give back the quarters you stole
Iceman will return
This was a couple of years back, but my son has terrible diahrrea and that reminded me. We had all eaten at Church's Chicken, the one on 39th street, you all know the one. Anyway, we all got food poisoning from eating there, as is usual with that kind of place where you see the lady tugging at her camel toe and then touching your food (that's where the juice comes from! And the cheese) and then letting it sit while she talks to someone on the phone before she gives it to you.
Anyway, everyone had this explosive, no-warning diahrrea, and it was hilarious because while I was throwing up, I did not have the hershey squirts. So I was walking around bragging while my wife sat on the can, too afraid to yell or move for fear she would explode all in her pants, my sons both taking up the training potties, hunched over creating this fog that could stop the imperial forces from invading, faces all white as fresh clean sheets. They got done, and my wife was leaning on our bureau, looking at me with utter disdain because I was bragging about how cool it was that I almost never get sick and how they're all just a bunch of babies. I was wearing only boxer shorts (tight ones, ladies.....oh!) and I was bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed. I felt a fart coming, and decided it would be funny to roll onto my back and fart in her face.
I started the roll, and halfway into it I felt the saliva triple in my mouth, meaning I was going to throw up. I concentrated on stopping that from flying out, completely forgetting that my innocent little fart had turned into full blown diahrrea. I will explain what happened next in slow motion: I gagged on the vomit, and at that point had rolled completely onto my back. My butt was in the air, I was almost to my shoulders at that point in the roll. The fart that came out sounded weak and strained, and then it happened. A tiny little shit fountain shot out of my ass and onto the bed. It went through the little slit you whiz through, made a perfect chunky brown arc, and splattered onto the bed.
I then started laughing.
The laughter caused me to start to throw up, so I tried to choke it back off, forcing more shit onto my mattress. My wife started laughing hysterically, then ran to the bathroom to escape shitting herself. To this day this is her favorite story, even better than the time I pissed the bed, woke up and tipped a jug of water into the bed on purpose and tried to convince her that was what happened. Drinking and sleeping don't mix, kids!