WARNING: Gross Story Alert...
I will give you one warning and one warning only.
* Okay. Now that we've established some boundaries it's time for a story.*
Do not continue with the reading of this blog entry if you are a wuss of any sort.
Signs of wussiness include, but are not limited to:
* Use of the word "tender" without the presence of a steak.
* Inability to make fire happen.
* Uncanny resemblance to Lance Bass from N'Sync.
* You've had a manicure or pedicure and you're a dude.
* The Gilmore Girls is your favorite TV show.
* You take offense when someone says the word "barfed".
* The Mazda Miata is your idea of a sports car.
* You cry over spilled milk.
* Inability to make fire happen.
* Uncanny resemblance to Lance Bass from N'Sync.
* You've had a manicure or pedicure and you're a dude.
* The Gilmore Girls is your favorite TV show.
* You take offense when someone says the word "barfed".
* The Mazda Miata is your idea of a sports car.
* You cry over spilled milk.
* Okay. Now that we've established some boundaries it's time for a story.*
It's hard not to be humble when you're so bad at being human. Whenever I receive a compliment on something I typically say, "Yeah, I'm awesome." which is almost always followed by the compliment-giver taking back their compliment and replacing it with something snide.
The reason I say, "Yeah, I'm awesome." is because I am a sarcastic little man. If anyone knew just how un-awesome I really was, they wouldn't even sit in the same room as me, let alone talk to me and give me a compliment. Only I live with me all the time. I get to see me do all kinds of ridiculous things. Things that are the opposite of awesome. Therefore it's a joke to me when I receive a compliment and I can't help be sarcastic about it. I'm working on that though...I've been receiving more good stuff and passing it on to the One who is at work in me.
So anyway...here's a little picture of me being not good at life. Or, really good at life. I guess it just depends on how messed up you are.
'Twas a long, long time ago...well, actually it wasn't long ago at all. It was a few months back. I was supposed to meet some friends somewhere to help them work on something. My friends were running late and of course I was early. (I'm always early.) I was sitting outside waiting for them and there really wasn't anything around except a small store and a wooded area.
The reason I say, "Yeah, I'm awesome." is because I am a sarcastic little man. If anyone knew just how un-awesome I really was, they wouldn't even sit in the same room as me, let alone talk to me and give me a compliment. Only I live with me all the time. I get to see me do all kinds of ridiculous things. Things that are the opposite of awesome. Therefore it's a joke to me when I receive a compliment and I can't help be sarcastic about it. I'm working on that though...I've been receiving more good stuff and passing it on to the One who is at work in me.
So anyway...here's a little picture of me being not good at life. Or, really good at life. I guess it just depends on how messed up you are.
'Twas a long, long time ago...well, actually it wasn't long ago at all. It was a few months back. I was supposed to meet some friends somewhere to help them work on something. My friends were running late and of course I was early. (I'm always early.) I was sitting outside waiting for them and there really wasn't anything around except a small store and a wooded area.
Out of nowhere I find myself in the dead center of a poop attack.
poop attack 1 |poōp at*tack |əˈtak|
noun (also poop onslaught) the utmost and highest form of a sudden need to drop one off, esp. in a situation where your underpants are in danger.
verb [ trans. ] (usu. be poop attacked) (of a wave) overcoming feeling of stomach upsetness (an unwelcome surprise), sometimes causing severe nervousness : Suddenly and without warning, I was badly poop attacked.
I'm not sure if you're familiar with a poop attack. I pray that you aren't. Myself? I am familiar.
First comes the sound of a toilet flushing from inside my stomach. I don't know how my stomach creates such a noise, but to say it's unpleasant is an understatement.
Next, sweat beads begin to form on my forehead and panic sets in.
After that, I begin looking around frantically for a restroom. Surely there must be a bathroom savior somewhere within my reach. Ah yes...the convenient store.
I run in and immediately try to act as if I'm not freaking out.
"Hello, I was wondering if you have a bathroom I might be able to use."
"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't allow customers to use our bathroom."
"Oh okay, not a problem...thanks." My life is over as I know it.
noun (also poop onslaught) the utmost and highest form of a sudden need to drop one off, esp. in a situation where your underpants are in danger.
verb [ trans. ] (usu. be poop attacked) (of a wave) overcoming feeling of stomach upsetness (an unwelcome surprise), sometimes causing severe nervousness : Suddenly and without warning, I was badly poop attacked.
I'm not sure if you're familiar with a poop attack. I pray that you aren't. Myself? I am familiar.
First comes the sound of a toilet flushing from inside my stomach. I don't know how my stomach creates such a noise, but to say it's unpleasant is an understatement.
Next, sweat beads begin to form on my forehead and panic sets in.
After that, I begin looking around frantically for a restroom. Surely there must be a bathroom savior somewhere within my reach. Ah yes...the convenient store.
I run in and immediately try to act as if I'm not freaking out.
"Hello, I was wondering if you have a bathroom I might be able to use."
"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't allow customers to use our bathroom."
"Oh okay, not a problem...thanks." My life is over as I know it.
Wait!! Plan B...I can go in the woods! I can buy some toilet paper and go in the woods!!
I know I don't want to do this, but there are no other options!! I don't have any money on me. I don't have my wallet. I don't have any change in my car...WHAT AM I GOING TO DO???
I drop my face into my hands and I begin pondering all my life and what could have been. I look down at my feet. A thought comes to me. An epiphany if you will.
I drop my face into my hands and I begin pondering all my life and what could have been. I look down at my feet. A thought comes to me. An epiphany if you will.
Socks.
I have socks on.
I can use my socks.
After wandering around the building of the inconvenient store around seven or eight times it occurs to me that I won't make it another minute. I'm out of time. There is no other option. I have to do this. It's not going to be pretty and I'm not proud of myself, but I must do this.
I head into the woods.
I return from the woods sockless.
The earth is back on it's axis.
This is my life.
I have socks on.
I can use my socks.
After wandering around the building of the inconvenient store around seven or eight times it occurs to me that I won't make it another minute. I'm out of time. There is no other option. I have to do this. It's not going to be pretty and I'm not proud of myself, but I must do this.
I head into the woods.
I return from the woods sockless.
The earth is back on it's axis.
This is my life.
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5 waggish utterances thus far...:
This is of the most awesomest stories ever.
the population of waves coffee thinks I have something seriously wrong with me. I am laughing all too histaricly because this story is a little too familiar.
Wow...what a creative use of sockage!!
Denny says it's all the hot sauce you eat. :)
I say, join the club...Been there...didn't make it to "the woods" and felt like a preschooler!
H.
wow, it's a while since I had to resort to such drastic measures. Last time I heard of any such action was in junior school, so - hats off to you!
That story is sick, sick, sick. Ek, its still nasty. By the way I like Mazda Miatas
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