April 6, 2012

Come on ice cream

1976, It was America's Bicentennial and the big park was filled with people that sultry July 4th. I ate my weight in food, a talent shared by every growing 14 year-old. Roasted corn on the cob, pork burgers, corn dogs, watermelon, ice cream, lemonade, junk of all description filled my belly.

Why this trip down memory lane? Because Wednesday night/Thursday morning I shat every morsel of food I have eaten in the intervening 36 years. I think I crapped out the Lindbergh baby. Somehow parts of Amelia Earhart's plane came boiling from my bunghole in a hot viscous liquid. It was like some unseen hand had slipped me a powerful enema. My room at the Hilton Garden Inn took on the fetid odor of a Port-o-pot after a chili eating contest at a biker rally. Dung beetles were complaining about the smell.

I soiled two pairs of tightey-whiteys and a pair of cotton gym shorts. It took two showers to clean myself up at various times.  The sphincter will not hold a gallon of water while you have a coughing fit. I went through two rolls of toilet paper, and the box of tissues left by the maid.  I opened the coffee service so I could use the napkins. I never left the toilet for more than 16 minutes for more than 8 hours. I know 'cause I kept track. I actually fell asleep on the toilet at least twice. Each time I woke with thunderous anal explosions that echoed through the darkened bathroom.

My colon settled down with the rising of the sun. I finally was able to abandon the throne long enough to shower and shave. I slipped on some jeans and went commando to the nearest Wal-Mart. I bought some replacement undergarments and a much needed bottle of Pepto. I drank half the bottle in the parking lot.  I went back to my room at the hotel.  I dressed for my customer visits, glad to have some underwear beneath my Dockers. I alternately held my breath and gagged as  I packed.  I  left a couple of bucks on the nightstand for the maid.

My twisted bowels had finally recovered by supper time enough to eat a bit of Carolina BBQ before boarding the plane for home.

4 comments:

Ed Bonderenka said...

Thanks for sharing.
Think of the sudden weight loss and it's a positive.

Cappy said...

Dude - you sure get the Hershey Squirts a lot.

Anonymous said...

The doctor says its my meds

hey teacher... said...

I thought you were reacting to Mitch's boys finding another $205 million. That's a lotta dough to make you go. That cotton would have come in handy.

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