Ass On Fire
Warning: The following entry contains toilet humor. If that sort of thing is not your cup of tea, well then...I guess you won't be getting your damned cup of tea. Go on and stick that up your pipe and smoke it!
Now, on to your regularly scheduled Fine Sh*terature.
Ladies and Gentlemen out there, I pose this question: How many of you have ever been betrayed by your butt-crack? I'm not talking about extreme conditions, like elderly people who wear adult diapers because they have no control of themselves. I mean folks who normally have firm control over all of their bodily functions, only to have your booty one day build up the nerve to act unruly and start acting like it runs the show. Thanks to some half-price produce, I know this feeling.
A few months ago, I was grocery shopping and a sign caught my eye. It read: "Strawberries $1.49 with card."
To me, the combination of "cheap" and "strawberries" was too good to pass up. I decided right then, that I was going to buy a pack and snack on them once I got home. Nevermind the fact that it took me 10 minutes of searching to find a pack of strawberries that did not look as if they had been beaten by their husbands. Yes, these were the strawberries that wore makeup and dark glasses around the other berries in the patch, in order to hide the signs of abuse. Despsite this glaring warning sign, I figured that this was probably the last day that they'd be edible, so I took my chances and bought the battered produce anyway.
That evening, I ate about half of them before a couple of friends came over. When they arrived, people saw the remaining strawberries and said they looked like something from an episode of CSI or The X-Files. I laughed it off, but about an hour later, the laughter stopped. That's when my butthole betrayed me.
While we were all watching TV, I felt my stomach lock up on me the same way it wold had I been punched in it. Only thing is, this punch came from within. So I got up and excused myself to go do number 2. I thought I would be able to be discreet, but my butthole had other plans.
I sat on the toilet, and instead of quietly doing my business, my butt let out the loudest "BRRRRRRRRRRRRRAP" sounding noise known to man. It was almost as if my ass were doing an impression of The Human Beat Box from The Fat Boys. Not only that, but during the course of my bad produce-induced trip to the restroom, various other noises were released. My butt would decide to pretend to be Bobby McFerrin on a day that guests were over.
When I was done, walking out of that room was like walking that green mile to the electric chair. I knew I was gonna get it. Folks started out asking if I was alright, then I got joked for eating those strawberries of death. People even said I was in there playing the ass trumpet. All I know is, I learned my lesson about buying marked down items that look like they have about a day of shelf-life left in the grocery store. That's asking for a butt mutiny!