I ate some bad paella at a shady restaurant. Within two hours, I was on the
can.
Fiery hot streams of diarrhea erupted from my ass like a dragon breathing
fire. I could
feel lettuce and undigested foot chunks being shot out of my ass, I could
hear their
splash. I could feel the sticky, runny diarrhea clinging to my ass hairs
like chocolate
covered sprouts. Then I felt my stomach lunge. I flushed the toilet and bent
over it,
vomiting -- only the smell of diarrhea made me sicker. When I blew my nose,
food
chunks caught in the back of my throat shot into the kleenex -- corn, more
lettuce and
what looked like a piece of shrimp.
I began to wipe my ass, intermittently stopping to **** again. I couldn't
move. Finally, I
was done. I wiped and wiped, half a roll of toilet paper gone, my ass red
like a
baboon's from the chafing -- some blood was on the paper. I used two
washcloths to
clean my asshairs, hopelessly caked as they were with quick drying feces. I
hobbled into
the shower, gritting my teeth as the hot water stung my sore and chafed ass.
I felt the
stream cleanse me, breaking up the crust that had soldified like quick
cement.
Soon I'm out of the shower, gritting my teeth as I dry off. Tasting puke and
smelling ****,
I wobble. Gingerly, I rub some cream on my raw ass and the expended dirt
star and
gingerly put on my boxers.
I feel a fart coming on, and gently, gently begin to release it. But the
fart takes on a life
of its own and explodes, spattering my underwear with the resounding slap of
a fastball
hitting a catcher's glove.
Defeated, I remove my soiled boxers and sit on the toilet, beginning the
process anew.
The gas and diarrhea smell was so bad I exhausted two candles trying to get
rid of it!
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