darknation

Fuckin hell, that's when you know the vodka enema has to wait until morning.

I wonder if I should write about that time where I managed to hold in a pressing, cramping, flaming diarrhea for about 1 hour and a half while on a (running late) bus to the airport, and doing my best to keep silent and emotionless about it. Due to several adverse circumstances, I could not just ask the driver to stop, and due to the unknown Will of the Shit God, I had no symptoms or urges BEFORE boarding the bus.

I swear, during the hour-long (which was supposed to be 30 min-long) bus trip, I concentrated all of my Being into holding it in....I don't think I ever came closer to a mysical experience or religious ecstasy. If Absolution could ever be reached through containing raw suffering, that must be it. Every movement was painful, every THOUGHT was painful, I thought I was made of nothing but pain...but I refused to yield. I must have looked something like that:



Reaching the airport, sweating profusely, didn't solve my problems, as there was no time to run to a toilet: my flight was just about done boarding, some asshole passport control motherfucker held me a taaaad bit longer, and finally I was almost accused of international biochemical terrorism when I locked myself in the plane's toilet as soon as I boarded, delaying its departure by a good five minutes. I don't know what my face was during the moment of Final Absolution of All Sins, but it must have looked something like that:



True story.

Shit thread. [someone had to say it]

Regrettably, I don't have any scatological anecdotes to share with you. I do have accounts of public urination and laying in puddles of my own vomit, however. But I'll resist lowering the tone of this delightful blog.