So for my first entry, I kind of have a story within a story related to another story;
I give you the saga of the Waffle Stomp...
So I have this friend, we'll call her Louise. Louise and I love poop based puns and anything remotely related. She has sharted herself numerous times, and during the beginning of our relationship, I had not, so I had to live vicariously through her sordid tales. The fact that we share these real life human stories that most people are afraid to reveal to other human beings is definitely a factor in our strong bond.
So fast forward to many years later (I have now sharted one time, and one time only, but that's not what we're talking about here), Louise texts me that she tried to fart in the shower, but she didn't just shart this time. She actually, and very much accidentally, took a shit in the shower! Obviously, I had questions and this is how our conversation ensued:
Fast forward sometime later, I was on a date with someone- is it bad that I don't remember exactly who? I think it's this one person in particular, but I can neither confirm or deny so I'm just going to write the story like it is him. Somehow, we got on the conversation of deplorable friends/deplorable things our friends have done, and he brought up how he knew this one guy who took a shit at a public shower, tried to stuff it down the drain, ended up clogging things up and got kicked out of the bath house. He may or may not have been naked when he got kicked out. Basically, everything went down the drain... real quick... in the figurative sense only. In response to this anecdote, I naturally had to bring up the texting conversation with Louise, and my date and I had a hearty laugh at our shitty friends.
Fast forward again (there's a point to this I swear), I had now ended things with aforementioned date (Main reason: if it's him, he gave me a hickey on my lip, but that's something we can get into later). I felt like his judgement on how the relationship was going was very skewed and disconnected- he was into me very quickly and I just wasn't there (maybe, just maybe, because he gave me a fucking HICKEY on my LIP). He took the "break up" well enough (I used quotes because we had maybe gone on three dates), he seemed surprised, but handled it like an adult. Although, after the deed was done (over the phone), he quickly was like, "Gotta go- I have another call on the line!" Which still to this day, I wonder if there really was a call, or if he made that shit up just to make a quick exit. But, I digress.
Maybe a month later, I came across this beautiful gift from above:
I think this new found terminology speaks for itself. I had to send this to Louis. She obviously laughed her ass off, but I'm surprised she didn't shart herself again.
I then juggled around the idea of sending it to Mr. Lip-hickey. Finally, I said, fuck it; there were no hard feelings, and if I were him, I would enjoy the comedy of this and its connection to my personal life. The only problem was, I wasn't quite sure that he was the one that told me the story. Yeeeeaaaahhhh. But again I said, FUCK IT. I text him with the following: "Ok, so I'm super sorry for texting you out of the blue and I hope that you're the one that told me this because otherwise this is going to seem SO WEIRD, but did you tell me a story where you knew someone who took a shit in a public shower?"
Yea, he still hasn't responded.
Soooo either he's super bitter and doesn't want to respond to me, ooooorrrr he didn't tell me that story and he thinks I'm a fucking weirdo and he has no idea why I would even be asking that question. Either way, it's hilarious. My only regret is that if he is the one with the friend who shit in the shower, he'll never know the beauty of the waffle stomp and its glorious relevance.
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