[Odysseus]

I shall tell you a story which happened to me quite recently. It is rather long, however. Not quite so long as the appendage of a black adult film star, but long none the less.

Seeing as I live at home with my parents, I rely solely on them for the purchasing of quality, edible meals and food. Generally this standard is held with considerable credit, however, I will never forget the one day an exception occurred.

I awoke as usual. 6am. I stumbled into the shower, adjusting my large penis underneath my faded pajama pants. (Ok, so my penis isn't large, that's why my girlfriend left me, but I say it anyway). I have my shower as usual, dress myself in attire so stylish, it makes Rick James jealous (R.I.P.) and head out to the kitchen to grab, what I assumed at the time, to be a nice hearty, delicious breakfast snack, before heading out to the train station.

I open the fridge door, the smell of the entire weeks meals hitting me like a sledghammer. I wasn't in a cereal mood, nor was I in the mood for crisped yeast creations (some call it toast). So I decided to have some fruit. This was my first mistake. The only fruit we had left was a single apple in the fruit drawer. Folks, if you ever see one of anything, don't fucking touch it. This goes for briefcases at train stations, etc. Being so darn tired that I was at the time, I grabbed the item and devoured it within seconds. Realizing I was short on time, I decided the apple would have to do it for the day. Perhaps I could buy a sandwich in the city?

By the time I got to the station, I knew something was up. Perhaps it was the fact I couldn't stop farting every 5 seconds. Or the fact my stomach sounded like it was clearing its throat non stop. I thought I should get a bottle of water, which I did. This seemed to delay the inevitable, but not stop its eventual cataclysmic climax.

I sipped from the bottle every now and then, trying to keep the feeling away. I chomped vigorously on chewing gum, cramming the pieces into my mouth like skittles. It was only going well until "she" got onto the train. I refer to a young woman, most likely having just arrived from a gym of some sort, nurturing some sort of bacon/egg concuction, which she began eating. The smell alone was so bad I thought I was going to hurl right there and then. I knew if I sat behind her any longer, I'd puke.

I had no choice. I had to get off the train. We're talking morning peak hour here, kids. Every business man and his dog is on the train heading to the office to photocopy shit, be rude to others, and cheat on their wives with their work mates. I had to get off. There is not a more violent, disgusting area in all the city than this area. I shall refrain from using it, incase some reading this live there. In the instance that you do live there: You sick, sick bastards. Leave now!

Anyway, I get off at this station, spend about 5 minutes walking around trying to find a bathroom, before finally finding the fucking thing. I go in there, and it's classic public toilet. The whole place is covered in graffitti (Stupid spraypainting fucks, spray something we can fucking read) smells like piss, and there's a bum washing his arse in the sink (classy). I'm dead serious, I run into the stall and drop my dacks. Shit literally explodes from my arse. I notice my shoes have some strange fecal substance on them, which only makes the shit come out more and more. You know the scene in "Dumb and Dumber" where Harry's guts are coming out? that's what I was like. I looked in the toilet, the pileup of shit was inches away from my arse. There was so much shit. When I looked at it, I began throwing up.

I'm desperately trying to flush the shit so the vomit doesn't go everywhere. At this point an asian man is knocking on the cubicle saying something in bum language. Along the lines of calling me a fucking arshole, or something.

30 minutes later, I leave the stall. My arse feels like it's the size of a dinner plate. I get on the train, go home. My mum asked why I'm back. I tell her class was cancelled. Everytime I go past that station, the memory of what took place in that bathroom will always be there.

Moral of the story: Don't eat something if it looks as good as Michael Jackson.
Second Moral of the story: Asian bums are violent, violent men. You would be best to steer well clear of them. If this is not possible offer them fellatio, then when they close their eyes during the enjoyment of the act, run for it.

Thank you for listening to my horrible story.

[Shadrach]

This story had me mildly amused. Only mildly.