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  • Chili View
      by mojophone on September 10, 2008 at 07:14:07 PDT

    I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether
    sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous
    evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my
    patented 'You're definitely going to $h!t yourself' chili. Tasty
    stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a
    written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your
    a$$ cheeks WILL fall off.

    Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two
    cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened.
    No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way
    through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the
    usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as
    thunder and lightning.

    Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just
    when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery
    store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.

    Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart
    and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't
    until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that
    the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm
    talking about. I'm
    Referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us
    at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

    The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a
    revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the
    small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and
    before I could take one step in the direction o f the restrooms which
    would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning
    shot.

    There I stood, alon e in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly
    enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been
    recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor
    might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave
    the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out
    of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.

    I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her
    reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to
    dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been
    torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and
    I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

    I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she
    walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor
    so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and
    running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her
    head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made
    me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.

    Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped
    down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive
    issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and
    echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked,
    fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.

    Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off
    through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the
    whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion
    took place.

    Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john,
    began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat
    because my #*^is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in
    while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock an d
    Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonofa^@*!#!',
    then quickly left.

    Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled
    cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee
    approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a
    few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the
    store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute
    or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

    That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me.
    The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to
    cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner
    shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the
    manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked
    none too kindly not to return.

    Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing
    to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next
    day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that
    because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're
    going to have to repaint the store.....

    [Post automatically censored for profanity]

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