The Morning After

Let me tell you a story about my Beer Shits.

 

Most of you know it’s kind of painful when the Beer Shits (B.S.) hit.  From my perspective, it feels like a Midget on steroids is gut-punching me.  Little Bastard!  Usually I’m at home when this happens, and without delay, I get the luxury of dropping the Deuce in my own bathroom.  Not in this case.  My nightmare began the moment the bus door closed.  Oh yeah…right when the doors closed I get with a Major Case of B.S.!  OMG it was bad.  I was hurting, but I wasn’t sweating it.  I was thinking “I only had a 15 min. ride to Union Station and I could use the restroom there and still have enough time to catch my train.”  That didn’t have happen.  The damn carpool lane was backed up and the freaking bus ride took 30 minutes.  You can’t even imagine how miserable I was.  The bus finally arrives and I had no time use the restroom.  I only had a couple of minutes before my train departed and I was forced to waddle to the train as fast as I could.  Yes, I waddled!  If I didn’t waddle, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my butt cheeks clinched.  If I didn’t clinch my butt cheeks, I might have farted and that could have turned into a bad scene. 

 

Let me show you why I was worried about farting.  Beer Shits + Fart = Shart. A Shart is another term for Wet Fart.  Sharting with a train full of people is not good. Sharting in general is a bad.  Unless you are one of those people who like to play in their own poop. Sick-O-! I guess if I was a monkey I would fling poo at you.  LOL

 

(Back to the story)

On the train and in agony – I can feel the Devil’s Spawn trying to fight his way out of my poop-chute.  He was stabbing my insides with his giant fork thingy.  Ouch!  The pain is getting worse and I don’t know if I have the strength to hold back the Savage Beast any longer.  At this point I broke into a cold sweat and I’m desperate for ideas to subside the pain.  I first tried biting my tongue and hoped that it would sidetrack my mind from the ongoing torture in my gut, didn’t work.  Next I try taking deep breathes (Like I was in Lamaze Class), nope!  Then I tried going to my happy place, not even close.  I saw nothing but a dark void the second I closed my eyes.  I finally hear my stop and I “Thanked” Buddha for getting me there safely.  As I got off the train I noticed something crucial.  My ass started to get tired and it’s sore from being clinched too long.  I freaked out and ran to work.  I really didn’t care if I Sharted a little and dirtied my underwear.  At least I could have taken them off and thrown them away. J  I made it to bathroom and I was fortunate enough I didn’t Shart, BUT…my ass was still a ticking time bomb.  In the stall, I rushed to get my pants off and in mid squat; I unleashed the terrible beast to the Porcelain God.  I hope the Porcelain God enjoyed my offering, because I flushed 7 or 8 times.  It was like an endless waterfall of turd.  Just be glad you weren’t in the stall next to me.  You might have died or you would have gone blind.  “I know my eyes were burning.” 

 

That’s my story and thanks for taking the time to read it. 

 

 - Shai

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Tags: beer shits, deuce, poop, wet fart