Story: I was visiting a friend in NYC and he happened to live
in Washington Heights. We went to a great Indian Place
where I loaded up on the Murg Tikka Masala.
I had to hold in an explosion during our walk back to his
place. I was not feeling well to begin with that day, and
it certainly was hard for me to hold my fudge after the
I did not want to go up into this guy’s apartment and
launch a colon blow in his bathroom, because it would have
been loud and horrific, so I said I was going to get going
and finish my drive home. I said goodbye and went
But I could not hold it anymore – I looked for a bathroom
and could not find one – I ducked into a stairwell where
there was a ladder, and some painting equipment, including
those orange 5 gallon “Homer Buckets” from Home Depot.
I took a bucket which had some drying white paint in it. I
squatted on the bucket, and let forth the worst spray of
semi-solid fecal matter I had ever seen up to that point.
I was proud of myself.
I used a few painter’s towels to wipe, deposited them in
the bucket on top of my poo, and walked outside, got in my
car and traveled home.
I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the
painter came back to work that next morning
This is Baramas fault