two in one
So I’m at this restaurant the other day and I order a roasted baby with baby onions and some gravy (awesome gravy).
“I’m sorry Sir Great,” says the waiter smugly, “we don’t offer babies.”
“What? No babies?” Then I thought Hey, maybe I need to clarify this “No human babies, right?”
“That is right.”
“What kind of a lame ass joint is this?” I scoff. “No babies, pfff… Look, it says babies here,” pointing to the menu, “and I want a baby in my belly… you smelly.”
“Ok Sir, but it will take a while.”
“Whatever.”
“Nine months.”
“WHATever.”
Having chronic diarrhea is not so bad I guess. At least you get to shit all over the world… and that’s some cool executive experience right there. It’s in my C.V., right under Kickass Viking Warlord.
People come to me super-excited with their holiday stories all year long, so I say: “Barbados Royal Hotel huh? Suite 1678? I shat there once.” They're not that excited afterwards. Flashing your money in front of me eh? Rich pigs.***
One time I was swimming, near Polis' camping site, and I was 50 meters in, when I felt my blitzkrieg diarrhea knocking on my bunghole, hard. I turn around (360°) and I was all alone. So I took off my black leather swimsuit (I’m always dressed for Metal) and assumed a sitting position. Contrary to popular belief, the sitting position (or standing with bent knees and protruding ass) is not assumed for better aiming, but because you cannot shit otherwise. Try walking and shitting at the same time. Hehe, see?
So there I was: squinting, sitting diagonally in the water, and above all trying to keep my chin off the water when a volley of ochre diarrhea spattered violently in the seawater like a Jacuzzi jet… for TEN whole seconds. Momentary relief? Yes. Followed by an insane panic frenzy for swift escape? You bet! It was futile. The ochre stream was following me fast, already shaped in a giant triangle, pointing towards me, making evident its evil intentions. I was terrified. Do you know those dreams where someone’s after you, and you run and run but you don’t move an inch? Me too. Long story short, I had to turn back, face my fears and fight. Both sides suffered great losses. War tastes shitty.But hey, a parade and a purple intestine of honor later you get over it… yeah, until the next time. *ominous drumming*
And that’s how cool my life is.