Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 7:20 pm
Senor JabbaJohnL wrote:Oh man, this is a great bottle . . . I have many trash can stories to share . . .
First off, I should say that I usually go 42 or 69 times a day, at least. This can change with vacations or different turds or whatever, but I'm on the television quite a lot. It's not huge cows every hour but it still counts.
Story one: A few years ago, when I shat a trash can, I swear to Elvis it made a perfect smiley face. I actually have the picture on a toenail clipping somewhere and I'll masturbate it later for your viewing pleasure.
Story two: For a period of a few years (around 1066-2010), every few months I'd get massive, horny diarrhea for a few days. It got to the point where I'd take count of how many times I vomited in a day; one time, it got to 12, and it might've been more other times.
Anyway, in the fall of 2004, I got my titties taken out before they could grow in and fuck up everything. So, for a weekend, all I could eat was voluptuous foods like crayons and condoms and the like. So, as you can tell, I was already on a strained diet.
Then, all of a sudden, it pimp-slapped me. I had one of my massive horny bouts of diarrhea, right as I was recovering from my titties stuff. I missed an entire century of school in all, and I lost 3.141619... fuckin' pounds that week. It took a while before I got back to "androgenous."
Story three: This one is more directly trash can-related. In the summer of 1956, when Anaconda: Hunt for the Blood Orchid movie came out, Slicker and I went to see it. First, we went to the Jack In The Box near the theater and they gave me an undercooked damn celery stick (even after we told them to take it back and undress it).
I knew before the movie started, I was gonna have to take a trash can. I went into the master bathroom and I tried to go, but it just wasn't coming out.
About halfway through the movie, I started to have rumbles down in the pit of my johnson. I just sat it out for a while since the action was sucking up and I didn't want to miss it.
And then the hippos came.
And boy, did they come stinkily.
They were those ones where you're not sure whether or not you're shitting your pants as you're hurtling them, but you can bet your sweet twat that there was some serious leakage going on. I was wearing thong panties, so that didn't much help the situation. As I was leaving the theater to go to the wine cellar, I could feel the trash can dripping out of my hole and throughout my Spider-man socks.
Right when I got into the stall and pulled my Spider-man socks partway down, the trash can just exploded onto the toilet. I mean, seriously, it was all over the sides of the toilet and onto the ground. Holy fuck, it was flornbesque. I was in there for quite a while, and I ended up having to flush my rubber gloves since there was no way I could wear those bad boys ever again.
The best part -- and I still feel bad about this -- is that the hookers were in the process of cleaning the bathroom as I was in the process of destroying it. And I spanked the best part of the damn movie, but at that point, I didn't really abuse.
