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Fudgey

Perspective is important

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I recently had an ear infection and was given the antibiotic Keflex to take to clear it up. I went to Wal-Mart about four hours after I had taken the first dose and had no idea I needed to do anything—meaning poop. And out of nowhere, while I was mid-step, I just shat myself right in the Lawn and Garden department. Didn't fart or anything. Shit just fell out my ass.

After hauling my soggy ass to the men's room, I go in a stall, I unbuckle my belt, pull down my jeans, and let loose. My eyes close briefly, as I become aware of the inevitable, and then I stare down at a sizzling brown blob anchored between my legs, which are ensconced in my jeans. This it it. I slump in momentary defeat while my sphincter kicks into overdrive, gushing liquid poo, gush after gush, until the last wave of hydration leaves my throat dry and my body clammy. Matters do not improve; the acidity from the poo is eating away at the hemorrhoids around my asshole. I know my ass cleaning will be painful to the point of dabbing instead of wiping, and painful it is, adding insult to injury.

I have some cleaning to do.

I look at the toilet paper dispenser with loving eyes: It’s a commercial dispenser that holds a large paper roll that could wipe all the butts from Los Angeles to Houston I start to dab-pat the infected area in my jeans, removing the first layer. I then take my jeans off and raise my body over the toilet.

But still there is the reality that I have SHIT MY PANTS! So I stand there, naked from the waist down, dipping toilet paper in clean bowl water and doing what a good son should do -- clean up like a civil being. If you can say one good thing about me, it is that my mother taught me manners, and this teaching extended to cleaning a soiled public toilet seat to the best of my abilities. One doesn’t get to write that last line too often.

I sit back down on the toilet because my bowels are not finished. My bowels, in a punishing way, are making it clear what I have done and how I have mistaken their power, influence, and ability to dole out retribution. I hear someone enter the restroom. He isn’t here long. When I regain some semblance of sphincter control, I wrap my jacket around my bare bottom and emerge from the stall with my jeans.

At the wash counter sit two cloth towels and a spray bottle of disinfectant. Whoever comes in is present a blunt message: You shit? You clean.

The hand-washing area looks like it was designed for a pants-shitting accident. There are two sinks, two paper roll dispensers, holes on both ends of the table for trash, and ample table space on which to scrub. I don’t waste any time. I tuck my jeans inside out and lay them out for a pat bath. I lather my hands with green soap, take one of the courtesy cloth towels that were left by mystery man, and go for it. By this time, my mind is spinning in fuzzy neurotransmissions and a surreal time warp. Am I actually cleaning shit from my jeans? Since I have no other alternative, I put the soaked jeans back on and high-tail it out of there.

I headed home and prepared a hot bath with plenty of capfuls of Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap while I perform a second round of jeans-cleaning in the sink. As I let them soak, I immerse myself in the luxury of cleansing. With my body tingling with the freshness of peppermint, I emerge from the tub with perspective on life: I’m not dead; I’m not impoverished; I’m relatively sane; I am human; and I shit my pants. So f$&%ing what?

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Dude, were you born without a sphincter? It would explain a lot.

I like the moral of your story though.

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That's what you get for going to Wal-mart. In fact you probably fit right in.

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Imagine what all the nurses/assistants do at hospital and geriatic centers around the world. That is their daily job!!! And they do it for strangers.

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well at least you got it out of your system before you took your bath...

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Imagine what all the nurses/assistants do at hospital and geriatic centers around the world. That is their daily job!!! And they do it for strangers.

Imagine what sort of "care" this guy's going to need in a couple decades...

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They'll probably tag him as DNR - do not re-diaper.

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After reading this, I happened to check the junk mail at my office. Wonder if Fudgey has a possible employment opportunity here. The following was one of the messages and will fit this thread content quite well:

Dear Sir/Madam,

We are a professional inflated gasbag manufacture from China with over five years solid producing experience(take that to mean POOP). Our inflated gas bag can bring big saving of explosive and better blasting performance (again, POOP) such as reduce mass rock rate and no flying rocks...With our business expanding, we hope to create good business with your esteemed company.

Brand Easier Mines Gasbag (attached some photos) and the specs as below-

"Easier Mines Gasbags" are available for blast hole diameters ranging from 4" to 13 3/4" in diameter.

Highest pressure canister 1.6Mpa/2.0Mpa, filled with 99% R134a

Better performance of actuator which can work well at the temperature condition of -10c~100c(with special design of high temperature resistance)

Higher tensile of woven sleeve bag 150GSM

Better sealed inner co-extruded vacuum bag which can stay more than two weeks with fully inflated

With some professional design to increase heat reflect function

We are the right one could help you to increase your market competition with stability and better qualities, together BEST prices. We are looking forward to your EARLY reply. Thanks.

Best Regards

Lily Chen

Mining Services Industry Co., Limited

Cell:86-13823289670

Tel: 0086-769-82610269 Fax: 0086-769-82073669

Address: No.148 Fenggang town Dongguan City Guanggong Province PRC.

2012-08-03

Mining Services Industry

Samples.JPG

Edited by blybrook PE
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