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tmi thursday: you’ll never look at my hand the same way

Dudes, Maxie is kind of a big deal.  I sort of want to have her blog babies.   They would be so disgusting, yet lovable.  Also I Hate So Much could be my personal credo, if Maxie hadn’t gotten to it first.  Damn her!  Maxie totally speaks my language, inappropriate hilarity.  She’s 100% Very Real Jesus approved!

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As LiLu always says…

Alright, folks, you know the rules.  Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

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Hi y’all. I’m Maxie and I write at this complete shit show of a blog called i hate so much. Many of my blog posts make people vomit, and this one is probably no
exception. You have been warned.

A few weeks ago i was at a friend’s house and the urge hit me.

you know… THE URGE. The urge that will not wait and makes your bowels feel like a bunch of midgets (excuse me, “little people”) are doing that michael flatley dance thing…Lord of the Flying Feet? Lord of the Flying Poo? Lord of the Something. You know what I mean.

Well it just so happens that when I got this urge my friends and I were getting ready to walk out the door to go out, so I knew that I had to make this thing happen RIGHT NOW and make it happen fast or I’d be stuck with a drunken poo in a bar stall that probably wouldn’t close and could be seen from the hallway or something. This is what goes through my mind when I plan my bathroom trips. I like to be prepared.

I run to the bathroom and let it out with no problem, thank the baby jesus, wipe, and flush. I think you can see where this is going. IT
DID NOT FLUSH.

I’m not one to be ashamed of my poos. I’m very proud of them and sometimes I’ve been known to photograph them and send them to my
friend cavy if they’re really good. But when you get caught at someone else’s house with people you barely know it’s a little more awkward.

I looked ALL around the bathroom for a plunger or a toilet brush to break up “the package” and there was NADA. I blew on the water to move
the paper out of the way so I could tell whether it was just a paper cloggage or a legitimate over sized load.

Turns out this one was like pre-fab home trying to go down a skinny, one-way city street.

It had been a few minutes and I knew everyone was

1) waiting to go and

2) very concsious of how long I had been in the bathroom so I did the
only thing I could think of.

I stuck my hand in the toilet and broke up my little friend by hand.

That’s all it took, and off it was to poo heaven.

I washed my hand VERY well and I went back out to meet my friends without any of them knowing the better.

I’m sure anyone who knows me in real life is wondering if they were there that night, and if I later caressed their back with my freshly tainted arm and to that I say…

I’ll never tell.

October 14th, 2009 | Tags: , , , , | Category: Guest Bloggers | Comments are closed
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