[what?]

I was laying in bed around 11:30 last night and suddenly felt like somebody had stabbed a pitchfork in my gut and spun it around in circles. I burped a few times, then felt like I had to fart. I didn't trust it (the fart), so I headed to the library to sit down. I grunted out about 3 turds of typical turd specifications. then I had what I've decided to call an "ass-plosion" - one of those mushroom cloud type splatter farts that sends shit all over the bowl and probably is what years ago necessitated the invention of the "toilet duck" style cleaner bottles. soon after that I'd guess that around 3 gallons of shit water arced outta my ass like a crack in the levies down at the ninth ward (if there aren't any levies down at the ninth ward, then fuck you). through all of this, my stomach didn't really ease off. if anything, the alternating push and pull of trying to force whatever unholy occupying force had laid siege to my bowels followed by trying to stop the flow so I could catch my breath was making it feel worse. so now nausea is creeping up my throat - perfect. I grabbed the trash can and started vomitting in it. I had just emptied it earlier that night so the only thing in there was mrs. what?'s tampon wrapper. super. I swear to God, the only difference I could tell between the shit in the toilet and the puke in the trash can was that little floating wrapper. looked the same. smelled the same. I only tasted the puke (on the way out), not the ass water, but I'm convinced enough that I either puked out shit or shit out vomit. I have no idea where I'm going with this, except to assure you that this is a true story including the part where I finally escaped from that torture chamber, went and crawled back in bed, and asked the missus "hey, I see you're on the rag - any chance I can get a blowjob tonight?"

the end

[Paddy]

I need to return the books I borrowed.