I have a drumset that I keep in a storage unit, so as not to bother my old lady or the neighbors, that I play about once a week.
Well, I had just gone to get some delicious buffalo wings with my wife and ate about 50, along with several beers, when I got the bright idea to go rock out at the storage unit… with no bathrooms. I began to play for about fifteen minutes when I felt the faintest rumble that I usually associate with a little gas. You see, I also like to swallow air and fart it out, just to piss off my wife… so I was quite familiar with this sensation and thought nothing of it. As I continued to play, though, my stomach began to feel heavier and heavier and I knew I was in for some trouble. I thought I had enough time to leisurely collect my things and take them out to the truck. And then it hit me like a freight train. Sudden, gurgling cramps shot pain throughout my midsection and I double over on my stool trying to will my asshole to stay shut. I had been in similar situations before, so I knew I had to take immediate action in order to avoid shitting myself right there. I quickly squea! ked out a few greasy farts to make room in my guts and allow me to walk (still doubled over). I quickly decided that squatting behind the building was the only safe bet because every other square inch of the place had video cameras. I started to waddle out, butt cheeks clenched when I realized I had two obstacles: 1. How could I close and lock the storage without relaxing my butthole? We all know that if you give it any room to maneuver, it will open like the floodgates! 2. What the fuck was I going to wipe with? There was no paper, trees, leaves, grass or anything around!
Well, I said “To hell with the drums!” and continued my waddle to sweet poopy freedom around back. As luck would have it, I came upon an old sock someone must have left there. It was a wool sock that one would wear hiking or an old man would wear with their Berkenstocks. As I finally got to pull down my pants, I could that “grease” from the farts and knew it was no grease at all. Sure enough, There were my shit stained boxers (Calvin Klein, too). But alas, nothing matter as I finally got to relax my anus and spray gravy all over the side of the building and into the grass. The smell was simply unbearable and it formed a little puddle between my ankles (I was careful to keep my shorts from dipping in it). I wiped with the sock and used a pocketknife to cut my boxers off, vowing that no one would ever know about this.
After I also gave the wall a courtesy wipe I began to walk back around to the dumpster and then I saw it: a camera pointed right at the corner of the build. Luckily, it didn’t see me shit, but it would be too hard for them to put two and two together. I disposed of the soiled clothes in the dumpster and proceeded to go play drums for another hour. After all, after I got out all the goo, my body felt fine and I saw no reason not to. Also, it’s fair to say that the wings scorched my asshole pretty good, too. So, far I haven’t received any calls or notices from the facility so they either don’t care, didn’t see it, or are in the process of putting it on YouTube.
Originally posted 2011-08-23 22:29:00.