So I was at dinner with the groomsmen going over last minute plans for a wedding I'm in tomorrow.
Afterwards, we went back to the groom's house to have a drink and chill for a bit before we all went home.
I was planning on leaving within 15 mins, but all of the sudden, like a phantom, I felt this explosive diarrhea chomping at the gates of my bowels like rabid dogs. The Uber was on surge.
The Lyft was on primetime. Nothing is working in my favor. I call a ride, and it finally gets there. I live about 7 mins away, so I feel like I can make it.
The first thing I say to the Uber driver is how bad I have to take a shit. He begins to chauffeur me home as I'm squeezing my sphincter harder than I ever have in my life.
After the longest seven minutes of my life, we pull up to my house. I say thank you and start maneuvering to my door.
I fumble around my keys in the darkness, trying under the pale moonlight to somehow fanagle the one that opens the door.
I make it inside, and teeterwalk to the bathroom, ignoring my untimely delighted dog on the way. I'm about to erupt.
My glutes are cramped at this point, because I have been squeezing my butt cheeks so hard to dam the river of impending shit.
I start to shimmy my pants down, and as soon as I get about a quarter of the way down to the toilet, just like Shaq shooting a free throw... I MISS. I MISS THE FUCKING BOWL.
There's shit everywhere. On the seat and stem of the toilet, the floor, the back of my pants, in my taint. Everywhere. I make it all the way to the fucking toilet and I still fail.
I was supposed to come home and finish writing the speech I have to say at the reception tomorrow,
but instead I spent the last hour bleaching the shit out of my bathroom like it was one of Dexter's kill rooms, and vigorously scrubbing myself clean.