I have a big problem
Mainly, it's the big pile of steaming shit and apparently
indestructable newspaper in my toilet is providing a
delicious appetiser to the roaches and fruit flies
who are eating the red puke still spattered all over
the floor from Saturday night.
They should make shit smeared newspaper into bullet proof
vests or maybe even pontoon bridges and attack helecopter
armor, since no matter what you do to it, it won't disintegrate
or flush down the toilet no matter what you pour in
there or how many times you flush it. (at least a
hundred so far... and I've poured toilet duck,
comet, and half a bottle of vodka in there already)
Needless to say I'm too scared to even think about
using the toilet plunger. Even if I wasn't in the
Toilet Plunger Liberation front, and opposed to the
humiliation and exploitation of Toilet Plungers, the
very thought of plunging anything connected to my
hand, even if it was ten feet long, into that
unbelievably disgusting blob of human excrement,
liver tumors, tapeworms, and newspaper, makes me want
to puke again, and then I'd have to hang my head in that
same toilet, and maybe drool all over that, lets
face it, now thouroughly rotten shit which has been
festering in luke warm water for two days. If I did
that, my misshappen head hanging in that toilet, I
might never, ever stop puking. I could DIE.
So I'm going to boil some water in my water kettle
and pour that in there to soften it up. If that doesn't
work I guess I've got to forget taking a bath tonight
'cause it stinks too much in there.
I guess all this diserves some kind of explanation,
you see, Eddie my pal, stopped by my crib Friday
while I was at work, and used the last eight or so
inches of my precious toilet paper. When I got
home, he grinned at me like an idiot as I ran to the
bathroom to dump all my stress into Newport bay,
calmly neglecting to tell me that he used it all,
and so I had to use the OC weekly, but at least it
I did get to the store later and bought beer,
cigarettes, a newspaper, and ... what else was I
supposed to get? I know there was something else...
Then Saturday night, In my attempt to recover what
was left of my party dreams, I hooked up with a bunch of
drunken assholes at Tiki Bar, got to watch ten bouncers
drool all over some oversexed girl in our group
whose gangster boyfriend only gets out of jail long enough
to beat the shit out of her and knock her up again, (she
already has two kids) I mean not that I care, but anyway
nobody would pay attention to me so I had to do a lot of
drinking, Irish Whiskey for some unkown self destructive
reason, and evidently
(ah, excuse me, just came back from dumping the
boiling water... almost puked again from the
delicious aroma of the shit steam... but I digress)
Anyway, so everything began to become a blur, I
remember telling outrageous lies about knife fights
and other bullshit to some Bouncer guy who kept
trying to look over my shoulder at this girls almost
completely bared bozooom, enjoying driving him nuts
by expertly distracting his attention... then I was driven
home, I think, around two or three in the morning,
drank about a quart of water, tried to make pancakes
with just flour and water but gave up, and in a
desperate last ditch attempt to ward off another acute
alcohol poisoning, delerium tremens event, tried to
take a shower to sober up.
But my shower is broke, so I sat down in the bath and
eventually passed out, but my stomach didn't want me
to sleep so I woke up and remember spraying puke in a
a remarkable 180 degree arc all around the toilet,
everywhere except in it, and the next thing I
remember is waking up at about eight o-clock Sunday
morning, with a t-shirt upside down for pants on,
and another t-shirt the regular way.
I was dreaming my standard dream about the Jungle on
the beach in Costa rica, with my hammock, my fishing
pole, my rum cocoa, my two mute Costa rican wives, my
coconut trees, chickens, hut, etc., the only difference
was my drink was empty and I was really thirsy, I kept
hearing some waterfall that I couldn't see anywhere, and
one of my two 'wives' had stuck an axe in my head, but
I was too lazy to get up and figure out why or anything.
Suddenly, I woke up.
First thing I noticed was that I still heard the
strange waterfall sound, and I still had the axe in
my head. Being an experienced wino, I took this in
stride, and conducted a careful, private detective like
investigation, (no mean feat when both of your eyes are on
one side of your pounding head) i.e. after staring at my
bathroom uncomprehendingly for about five minutes it turned
out to be my still running bath, which was spilling over and
evidently had been for hours, into my psychotic new neighbors
appartment, who already once threatened to kill me for making
too much noise one night when me and Eddie where over here,
you guessed it, drinking.
So anyway, I turned off the water, put on some
pants, and strode into my living room, (that dream,
even with wierd alterations, always puts me into a
proud, Latin king mood,) and stood staring at my
hundreds of dollars of useless tropical fish.
I still had an invisible axe sliced into my cooller,
but I figured cheerfully 'It could have been worse!'
Well, thats when my stomach, which hadn't dropped
it's burden now for two days, slithered
frighteningly. I ran back into the bathroom, but alas!
The toilet was draped with what looked like some
form of virulent tropical red colored fungus.
The toilet was completely unusable. I consulted my gut
but there was no time to go take a dump down at jack in the
box or anything. So I got down on hands and knees,
and with newspaper cleaned off the worst of the bile
and blood and whatnot off of the toilet seat, and sat
down for a satisfying excremeditation session, reading
the few remaining scaps of OC weekly.
Thats when I remembered I still had no TP.
So to make a long story short, I had to use a bunch
of newspaper, again, and evidently used way, way,
way, way too much, probably because I was feeling extra
fastidious in my almost unbearably repulsive
And there you have it. Now it's Monday, I still
haven't bathed (unless you count Saturday night) and
I'm afraid to go in the bathroom. By now hopefully
the shit steam has settled and been absorbed in the
walls, the floor, my toothbrush, etc., and now it's
time for me to go and try the flush test one more
time. Wish me luck.
PS If I turn up dead, it was my neighbor
PPS It flushed! I flushed five times and the
toilet finally swallowed down it's latest ghastly
meal, PRAISE JESUS!
Keep the peace,
and don't drink too much,