I Bet Its Cold.

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I Bet Its Cold.
Tweet Topic Started: Feb 27 2006, 07:11 AM (274 Views)
Johnny Fist	Feb 27 2006, 07:11 AM Post #1
Ultimate Advanced Member Posts: 3,030 Group: Members Member #21 Joined: February 19, 2006	Discuss.



mireland	Feb 27 2006, 07:13 AM Post #2
Ultimate Advanced Member Posts: 3,945 Group: Members Member #8 Joined: February 13, 2006	is that you after a night on the town.. :rolleyes:



Johnny Fist	Feb 27 2006, 07:28 AM Post #3
Ultimate Advanced Member Posts: 3,030 Group: Members Member #21 Joined: February 19, 2006	Dude, let me tell you about the worst morning after ever. This happened about four years ago towards the end of my decade of chaos. I woke up after a good night of getting drunk with some friends who were in town on a little minivacation for a few days. We hit a handfull of bars, got thrown out of them all, and had a blast. Lots of booze, lots of fighting, the perfect boys night out. Anyway, I woke up the next day and had to shit something fierce. All the White Castle I ate before passing out on the couch wasn't sitting well. So I went to the shitter and did my thing. It was pretty uneventfull until I realized I had to puke. I jumped up and looked down at my shit and decided I wasn't sticking my face down there. So I puked in the bathtub instead. Well as far as pukes go it was pretty typical. I turned the water on in the tub, wiped my ass, pulled up my shorts and went back out in the living room and passed out while drinking a can of coke. About a half hour later I wake up and have to piss. I suddenly realize the urge was triggered by the sound of splashing and running water. I stumbled into the bathroom only to find the puke had clogged the drain in the tub and it was overflowing onto the bathroom floor. So there I was, cleaning previously digested onions from the tub drain and looking at some floaters in the toilet next to me. Absolutely disgusting. About twenty minutes after I got it cleaned up the boys came back over again and we hit the road for the rest of the weekend. I couldn't think right until the middle of the afternoon.



Prushka	Feb 27 2006, 10:25 AM Post #4
Super Advanced Member Posts: 1,024 Group: Members Member #24 Joined: February 21, 2006	I love it :lol: My drinking/drugging days were far from over but: My brother and I were rehab-ing a house. We keep 2 pups from a litter. I woke up and couldn't stand up straight my head was pounding so hard and extremely thirsty. Made my way to the kitchen for water and I'm feeling this slimmy shit oozing between my toes and look them to see the entire kitchen floor covered with the runny out-pourings of puppy shit. Walk through the shit and down a 1/2 gallon of water from the sink, look out the window and see my brother laughing with this moching grin, shaking his head no...you clean it. I figure I already got my feet wet and got the bucket and was amazed that I didn't puke all over the god damn place...but whatever I did the night before somehow neutralized my sense of smell. Then got a well deserved beer and sat in the shower for an hour



mobo	Feb 27 2006, 12:52 PM Post #5
More Advanced Member Posts: 113 Group: Members Member #19 Joined: February 18, 2006	Ah.. sliders from WHite Castle... Some of the best drunk food, except for a carne asada burrito, two rolled tacos with guacamole and a Pepsi from Robertos..... Tastes as good comming up as going down!!!!



Zybch	Feb 27 2006, 12:58 PM Post #6
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	This always cracked me up: Trust me, its well worth reading The Steakhouse Incident By Steve Crisp Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment. We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however. I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress... I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good crap, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a crap. I went to the normal stall. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions. I began "The Move." For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of crap at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer. I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch. What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can. In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over crap no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since crapping will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted. At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of crap the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The crap wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down. Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the crap wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of crap remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon. Now, back to the vomit... While all the crapping was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles. In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet. In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in crap that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid crap All while thick crap was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat. And there was no frigging toilet paper. What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign. About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to being the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left. The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose. Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way. When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door. The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.



Prushka	Feb 27 2006, 06:00 PM Post #7
Super Advanced Member Posts: 1,024 Group: Members Member #24 Joined: February 21, 2006	:lol: Yes it was :lol:



genesound	Feb 27 2006, 06:38 PM Post #8
Los Angeles Posts: 1,601 Group: Members Member #9 Joined: February 13, 2006	I read that a few years ago when I was living in Dallas, where there are Ryans Steak Houses. They're ok, but a little trailer trashy. My biker friends and I fit right in <_<



werz	Feb 27 2006, 06:50 PM Post #9
werz Posts: 5,162 Group: Members Member #12 Joined: February 14, 2006	If you an yer degenerate friends spend a few hours there, the bathroom will look like a murder scene, without the body, when yer leave. They wouldn't need ta swab yer mouth, they just bring a bucket to pick up some DNA. left by one or more of yer.



genesound	Feb 27 2006, 06:54 PM Post #10
Los Angeles Posts: 1,601 Group: Members Member #9 Joined: February 13, 2006	We usually leave the fixtures attached... <_<



werz	Feb 27 2006, 10:25 PM Post #11
werz Posts: 5,162 Group: Members Member #12 Joined: February 14, 2006	I wrote the word runt in a post and it was changed to runt, would you like us not to use runt, or what ya unt. Sorry about that, just let us know and we will comply.



Zybch	Feb 27 2006, 10:59 PM Post #12
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	werz Feb 27 2006, 11:25 AM I wrote the word runt in a post and it was changed to runt, would you like us not to use runt, or what ya unt. Sorry about that, just let us know and we will comply. Its pretty much the only word I'd rather ppl didn't use. For some reason its the one thats considered to be the 'worst' word and could possibly get this place shut down if it was used too much. Just read the *TOS*. How many times do I need to say it???



werz	Feb 28 2006, 01:26 AM Post #13
werz Posts: 5,162 Group: Members Member #12 Joined: February 14, 2006	How the hell did we get away with all that stuff in the original thebanclan. I read TOS but the chances of remembering all that is remote for anyone. Unless it comes under abuse I didn't find any mention of it, though, I'm not a lawyer so I probably missed lots of warnings. Therefore a note not to use the c word would be easier.



Zybch	Feb 28 2006, 08:26 AM Post #14
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	Either they changed the TOS (I don't think so) or we were just curse-happy.



Super Yob	Feb 28 2006, 10:09 AM Post #15
The Baddest of Yobs Posts: 1,041 Group: Members Member #18 Joined: February 17, 2006	I had a sticky explaining what I didn't want done on the original site. It was the same pretty much as Zybby wants here. I had a dying wife to deal with and I figured if it got shut down, no big deal. The most offending member was someone that doesn't belong here, and most likely will not join up. His were the only posts I ever had to edit for crossing the lines I had asked not to be crossed. Tis a shame actually because a couple of years of building a friendship went straight to hell in a hand basket. Oh well, I don't feel much of a loss over losing his "friendship". Fact is, I feel no loss what so ever over his sorry ass.



Johnny Fist	Feb 28 2006, 10:48 AM Post #16
Ultimate Advanced Member Posts: 3,030 Group: Members Member #21 Joined: February 19, 2006	Oh yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn't keep bringing it up.



Zybch	Feb 28 2006, 10:52 AM Post #17
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	I rag all the time about people being stupid and how the world's current polititians have fucked us all up. I guess I wouldn't do that if I didn't care. I'm a very caring person. I care too much. But I still hate kids! And dogs.



Johnny Fist	Feb 28 2006, 11:01 AM Post #18
Ultimate Advanced Member Posts: 3,030 Group: Members Member #21 Joined: February 19, 2006



werz	Feb 28 2006, 03:17 PM Post #19
werz Posts: 5,162 Group: Members Member #12 Joined: February 14, 2006	You seen that porno to.



Zybch	Feb 28 2006, 04:55 PM Post #20
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	He was in it.



Super Yob	Mar 1 2006, 01:32 PM Post #21
The Baddest of Yobs Posts: 1,041 Group: Members Member #18 Joined: February 17, 2006	Johnny Fist Feb 27 2006, 06:48 PM Oh yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn't keep bringing it up. Buzz off Fist. Eat a pickle or something. Nah, don't care, don't matter. The reason I am not here as much as I was at the other site is because I am trying to turn things around, ya know tryin to clean up my act a bit. I wouldn't be at the other site much either. Fact is if you were paying attention Pickle Head, I hadn't been there in weeks when I shut it down. I am disappointed maybe, but I have much much more important things to worry about right now than a forum where ya can be yourself without the threat of banning. I had the idea, but somebody banned the absolute #2 member, someone I had invited myself to come and be crazy and have some fun. I still like all of you guys, you are all still my friends but I won't be around much. Cussing and acting outrageous is something I am trying to put behind me. Drinking and other mind altering BS is something else I am trying to leave alone. I just am not myself yet and I may never be the same guy again. I would have rather died myself than have what happened happen. You can take that to the bank my friend.



Zybch	Mar 1 2006, 02:20 PM Post #22
RULER!!! Posts: 8,915 Group: Members Member #4 Joined: February 12, 2006	Super Yob Mar 1 2006, 02:32 AM I am trying to turn things around, ya know tryin to clean up my act a bit. Well thats no damn fun.



Super Yob	Mar 1 2006, 03:30 PM Post #23
The Baddest of Yobs Posts: 1,041 Group: Members Member #18 Joined: February 17, 2006	Nothing is any fun anymore Zybby. I may get back to being a cut up and a clown eventually but man I am one lost dude right now. I have no idea how long this is going to hurt this bad, but Thursday will be 7 weeks and I am still a hurting unit. I miss her everyday, all stinking day and what makes matters even worse is the fact that I will not be released to go back to work until the 1st of April. I think getting back to work will help take my mind off of losing the wife, but I know for sure I will never get fully over it. I sound like a big freaking baby over this maybe but I really don't care if I do. We were married a very long time and she was the best part of me.



werz	Mar 2 2006, 06:01 PM Post #24
werz Posts: 5,162 Group: Members Member #12 Joined: February 14, 2006	you never forget, but eventually it stops being the only thing you think about, but a day doesn't go by without wishing she was still with you like she used to be.

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