Now why didn't I think of that?!?!?!? 

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Pusher, Co-Founder of the Gutter Sistren & [flickr-photo:id=3938763689,size=m]

gotta wait fer-fukkin-ever for an episode, though.

Dogs with doody breath, I can relate to that.

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that said 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 mess yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit 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 "Wolf's Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning. Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits. 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 he restrooms 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 habaneras in the chili 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 restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired warning shot. There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious 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 an elderly woman turned into it. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. 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 woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course , made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. 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 restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion 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 butt 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, " Oh my God!", then quickly left. Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem." That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!" then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return. Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. They claim they're going to have to repaint the store.

[flickr-photo:id=3383210176,size=m]
Head Coach

Wabash Wolfpack

That was the most halarious story I have heard in some time. My side are hurting. Poor old gal, she has probably lost all sense of smell.

Richno3.......out

This was a hilarious story.  I think I'm going to add the term "grand mal assplosion" to my everyday lingo
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I am Gmork, professional multitasker and smorker

I am...speechless.

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BigJohn: Badass enough to get the drop on Kissyman

Thats the way to drop one! :)

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler. Honored recipient of the 2009 "Iron Man" Award.
Pusher twice over.

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler. Honored recipient of the 2009 "Iron Man" Award.
Pusher twice over.

That was selling really crazy hot sauce like that. The craziest was called The Source and it was 7,000,000 Scoville units. I don't know how hot that is, but they also sold Satan's Blood, which was a mere 800,000 Scoville units. So...I guess if you melted Satan down, that's about the temp you'd get.

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BigJohn: Badass enough to get the drop on Kissyman

but I've heard good things about The Source.  It's about middle of the pack in terms of hottest hot fucking hot sauce (as the hottest on the market is an extract by Blair's that's roughly 16,000,000 SUs).

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

Ok, aren't we getting to the point of absurdity here? It's like hot sauce is measured like old Italian currency or something.

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BigJohn: Badass enough to get the drop on Kissyman

but I'm a freakin' chili mutant and as I've stated before, my goal is to find a dish so spicy I throw in the towel; hasn't happened yet.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

That makes more or less perfect sense. I mean the whole Scoville scale. What the hell is that all about? It's like paying 100,000 lira for a loaf of bread in the 80s. WTF?

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BigJohn: Badass enough to get the drop on Kissyman

too funny. great story to end my night with.

Love your work

No other pets in da house; but when roaming the countryside w. various livestock and other household pets, he sometimes comes back w. what looks like a doggy grin and stained teeth plus the worst breath *evah*...

RRARRRRRGHHHHHHROWWLLLL!!!!

>pfffft<

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Gutter Sistren whipping boy, innoventor of words

John's off his meds again!

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

John, they make pills and ointments for these kinds of problems.  And bathrooms!  They make bathrooms for this kind of thing.... 

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Captain of the Touchback and Proud member of the Gutter Sistren

that sounds awful.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

if nothing else, seeing a cat hoist a dump truck would probably cause most goons to give up as they figure you could turn them into a pretzel.

And not the sexy yoga chick kinda "Frisky Cheetah Rides the Space Shuttle" kama sutra shit kinda way, either.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world