Funny. Just had to post this. Not me:)

 
WARNING : ONLY Read This When You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD.

 

I went to Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that

course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had

prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're

definitely going to **** yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff,

although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written

guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt

cheeks WILL fall off..

 

 

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups

of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No

'Watson's Movement. Despite the chilies swimming their way through my

intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony

referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.

 

 

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just

when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and

supplies to refinish the deck. Upon entering the store at first all

seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping

items in for purchase.. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of

the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.

 

 

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm

referring to that 'Uh, Oh, ****, gotta go' pain that always seems to

hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The

chilies from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush

for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines,

forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take

one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet

relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.

 

 

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped

in a toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I

was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape

me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part

of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a

red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.

 

 

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his

reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to

dissipate.. Have you ever been torn in two different directions

emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will

be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I

simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently

indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before

gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and

waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees.

This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.

.......BIG mistake!!!!!

 

 

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped

down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue

burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I

was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that

someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly

things were no longer funny.. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through

the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way,

praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began

the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my

**** is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was

in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'.. He made

a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-****!, did it smell