Funny sad or gross story, you decide.
Another funny one (at least now) and it seems to be "time appropriate".
Read on..or check this out and have fireworks on your computer.
Do so here if you don't appreciate juvenile humor.
**also I apoliogize to those most that know me..what I look like etc for this horrid visual**
This was about 10 years ago now, I'd say 96/97 area now. Mrs March and I were recently wed and were invited to a friends house for a very casual BBQ on the 4th of July. It was just going to be four of us. Mrs March and i headed to our friends place and we had some food and a little to drink. We wanted to head over a town or two to catch the fireworks around 10pm.
We hopped in their car and headed over. Each year this town has a carnival on their town common. It was pretty crazy with the excitement as well as just the people who came later for the 10 pm fireworks. It was your typical summer night. Warm, the smells coming from all the vendors and what have you. We walked around and just took in the sights.
It was about 15 minutes before the fireworks so we walked around a bit to find a good place to see them. We walked and found a corner spot of grass. Right before we sat down out of nowhere my stomach starts to do cartwheels. I had been "fine" all day up until 20 seconds ago. I quiet right down and focus on myself.
Okay what the hell? Where did this come from. The freaking US Gymnastic team is in my belly twisting and flopping.
I pray it will pass...but its just there. I am at the "this is really not good" stage.
The conversation is going on,..and I try to let out the casual "laugh" on whatever we were talking about. There is no faking it..I need to crap...very badly...and right now.
I lean to Mrs March and kinda giggle as our friends could hear "I need to use a bathroom...i'll be right back".
I head towards the carnival. There HAS to be a portolet. Even the toilet from Trainspotting will do..i don't care. Amongst the masses I am like a lost child..where the hell is a portolet?? How can you have a carnival and nowhere to go? Where the hell do the carnie folk go? Sweet mother of god...I need to go!!! After what feels like hours I realize there is no place to be remotely civil about this. Walking and jarring my belly has not helped matters either.
I head to the far side of the town common..nothing. Mother F"EEEEEEEEEEER!! I am ready to burst...and if I don't get rid of this I was gonna have a HUGE mess and a lot of explaining to do.
I look and there are a series of side streets. I hate to do this to someone but man..this is what you'd call a grade A Emergency. Like a penguin I shuffle down the side street..careful to not let my butt get too relaxed. There are porch lights on and not a lot of coverage for me to hide in. The thing is, I know this won't take long...I just need 20 seconds..TOPS.
Sorry Mrs Smith, your front/side yard is gonna have to do. I try not to step on whatever this nice fine upstanding family has planted. I am beyond ready...there is no tactful way to say/do what happens next. I just make sure my feet and shorts/underwear are as out of the way as they can be.....and I just explode. I expel the contents of my bowels to the sound track of a merry-go-round. Its pure comedy..10 years later. I wait to see if there is a second wave...but there is not..and thank goodness because just then a porch light goes on. I am a fair distance away but still...was I caught? Were the police on their way? I am tucked behind some bushes and whomever comes out and heads towards the back. Wheeeew. I gotta get outta here.
But.... I need to clean myself.
I can't see leaves working, that is gonna be a disaster of the first order...so I make a Survivor like decision..and off come the socks.
I head back to the group..and if 10 minutes total had passed and hour did. Mrs March just looks...and I say "I had to find a tree not too close to the grounds...and i have to add..how can they not have a place for people to go?!
The fireworks go off and with each "boom" I silently chuckle...laughing at my bowels..i beat you..i am in charge. Sure you protest me but in the end i win!
We get in the car and head back to our friends place and "uh oh" guess who is pissed off there is no toilet around...yep...Mr Bitchy Bowel himself. The ride is long, slow, hot, bumpy..you name it. We finally arrive and we think that it will be a casual "See you later/thanks" in their driveway. I have to go...again. So I make some quick small talk and say "can I use your bathroom before we go?"
That session, as awful as it was, was at least "civil".
On the ride home I decide its time to share as Mrs March is wondering what my problem is. As I tell her of my scamper thru the town common and the subsequent "evacuation" all she can muster up, as tears are streaming down her face from laughter is "What did you use to wipe??" I raise my foot off the gas pedal, smile and just say "I need some socks for my birthday". I thought she was going to pass out from laughing.
So in closing, if you invite me to your 4th of July party..I promise not to evacuate my bowels on your forsithya bush.