Normally I don't write about personal things in journals, but being British and having a thing for toilet humour I could not resist.
It was 9pm and I was hungry, but not just normal hunger, "There's nothing quite like a McDonalds" hunger.
The dog obviously sensing this was looking up at me for any inclination that it might be going for another walk, so I thought what the hell and began a 2 mile walk to Mc Donalds along the "scenic route" so the dog could go off the lead and hopefully wear itself out while I listend to my MP3's.
The journey down was pretty uneventful, apart from walking past a gypsy camp and curising this goverment for allowing such trash to setup anywhere, make a mess, shit all over the place and move to the next place.
Anyway. I get to Mc Donald's to order my chicken sandwich meal, knowing I'm going to feel like crap after it, but doing so anyway because while I don't eat it that often, it still has a hold over me stemmed from sloppy parenting.
As usual, halfway through my Chicken sandwich meal I concluded that it was a waste of nearly 5 quid and I now found myself with a 40 minute walk home and a husky who all of a sudden thought it in the iditarod
no joke, this dog is possessed when it wants to run.
I decided to take a shortcut home because my arm was being yanked off and I felt a bit funny after the McDonalds.
With each step I thought "I need to go to the toilet", so you know I did what you do and broke wind to bide me some time.
About 5 minutes later I was all outta' wind and I sensed I must have had a dodgy mcdonalds cos I needed to go real bad.
I thought no way, so held it in, as home was only a 10 minute walk.
5 minutes later and the condition got worse and I found myself with diarrhea and I knew I was never going to make it.
I started sweating and looking around and residing myself to the fact that I'm going to have to shit like Gypsy.
Worringly I recall what that black guy from Pulp Fiction said about pride "it only hurt's, never helps" and I was in was in full agreement. I had to go no matter what.
I saw what looked to be a good spot, ran in the bushes and I swear I have never crapped so much in such a short period of time. I started to look for some leaves and with that I saw two headlights, I thought "no fucking way" and yep, a car pulled up about 5 meters from me and two people were going at it.
I was too scared to move because at this point I was hovering above an almighty pool of shit which I dared not look at and I was in the bushes with a very good looking Husky and I had no toilet roll and my views on pride were changing fast.
I did not even want to think about how bad it would look to someone else if they saw me, so I just had to stay there, perched above a rancid pool of steaming crap and trying to keep my balance with a husky who kept trying to investigate the nasty aroma and obviosuly thinking this was some kind of game.
After about 30 minutes the people in the car left and I was free to walk home vowing never to eat a McDonalds again.
Edited by Jamerio at 06:09 CDT, 5 May 2008 - 107420 Hits