I found this on a different forum
I went to Home Depot 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 shit yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff,
although 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 butt
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. Despite the chillies swimming their way through
my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony
referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.
Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of
just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and
supplies to refinish the deck. 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 toilets 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, Shit, gotta go' pain that always
seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was
different. The chillies 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 toilets which would bring
sweet relief, it happened. The chillies fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly
enveloped in a toxic 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 a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any
help.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his
reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to
dissipate.. 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 clerk, but didn't. I
simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently
indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before
gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving
his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This,
of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. .......BIG
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 toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way,
praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion 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, 'Son-of-a-bitch!,
did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.
Once finished and 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.'
My smirking 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 my supplies, 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 Lowes. 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.
I went to Home Depot 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 shit yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff,
although 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 butt
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. Despite the chillies swimming their way through
my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony
referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.
Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of
just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and
supplies to refinish the deck. 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 toilets 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, Shit, gotta go' pain that always
seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was
different. The chillies 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 toilets which would bring
sweet relief, it happened. The chillies fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly
enveloped in a toxic 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 a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any
help.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his
reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to
dissipate.. 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 clerk, but didn't. I
simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently
indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before
gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving
his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This,
of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. .......BIG
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 toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way,
praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion 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, 'Son-of-a-bitch!,
did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.
Once finished and 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.'
My smirking 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 my supplies, 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 Lowes. 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.
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