“Damn man, I don’t think I’d told that”

For those of you that know me, or have been around me over the years know that I like to share with you my little special stories.

Most of you know that the name Icewind = cool farts. It was better than the “Bugle Butt” name my niece gave me many years ago. I loved the t-shirt she gave me but no one would let me wear it out in public.

(Disclaimer – I know that some times I tend to take the liberty of embellishing the facts in some of my stories for the humorous effect. For the record, this is as close to 100% an accurate account of such events as I can remember)

Having pretty active bowels and the sounds that came from me sometimes embarrasses people in my life. One of the ways I have found over the years to keep my “noises” to a minimum is with frequent movement of my bowels. I try very hard to stay on a schedule that allows me to only go in familiar places. I mainly try to go at home and have gotten comfortable (out of necessity) to go at work but I do not like going while “away” if possible, meaning I like to crap exclusively on my own toilet unless it is absolutely an emergency. Well this was and turned out to be a bigger emergency than I had planned for.

I left work and headed over to a friend’s house. We were to go out and catch drink a beer and a bite to eat. We both arrived from work about the same time and my friend wanted to take a quick shower and change clothes before we headed out. This was no problem but while my friend was showering, I felt I had the urge. You know that feeling I’m sure, the one that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can not ignore. The eye watering, gut wrenching, gas bubble of a crap in the works.

I knew I was on the road, but this one would not wait until later and would have to be acted upon. Luckily, my friend had a guest bathroom so I figured that I could get in and out without being noticed while he was showering. I go into the guest bathroom, undo the belt, release the button, and drop my pants. Before my butt can hit the seat I could feel that rush of release come. Have you ever felt that uncontrollable want to go so badly that it doesn’t matter where you are?

As common as it is for me to be in this position, the relief I felt was beyond words. It was an almost orgasmic feeling as I purged the poisons within my bowels. Once the quivering subsided and I knew the mission had been accomplished, I was proud that this time I was able to go in an unfamiliar setting.

In my haste however, I hadn’t taken the time to do the usual 10 point inspection of the surroundings insuring that everything was ok for me to go.

That was MISTAKE NUMBER ONE for me. In my hurried state to go and the desire to get out of the bathroom before my friend realized I was taking a huge dump in their guest bathroom, I failed to notice that there was no clean up material. Not even an empty roll could be found. Perhaps an oversight on someone’s part as no guests were expected and surly not the thing that someone looks at in the normal clean up or restocking of the main bathroom. I quickly went through the cabinets searching for something that I could use. Nothing!
There I sat unclothed in the most undignified position with out anything to wipe with.


THAT IS WHEN I SAW IT
sitting there alone under the cabinet minding its own business. I wanted to make it my business as I had no idea where the
stash of toilet paper might be kept.

My luck it would have been in the garage where I could have done the “two feet” shuffle all the way to the garage and back with my pants down around my ankles. I thought better of that and decided on another plan.





MISTAKE NUMBER TWO
.
I picked up the container and thought to myself that my friend had moved into the modern age and instead of the old boring ass wipe toilet paper my friend had the latest and greatest tool for wiping.

“Clean up Wipes” the container said. “Lemon scented and quilted”. It sounded very refreshing and not like the plain old single or two ply that everyone uses. I thought I would give this new “wipe” a try as my wife has me pick up 3- packs at Costco all the time. She uses them everywhere, in the kitchen on the counters, in the bathroom for the shower and everywhere, and all over the house for general clean up chores. This would be great.

I found myself finishing my task with no one the wiser and off we went to grab a Guinness or two and have a plate of nachos. On our way to Gallos, a local restaurant, I thought I could feel a slight itchy and burning sensation as I sat there during the drive over. It was not too bad and I quickly moved on to other thoughts.

Soon I had a burning sensation that words can not describe. My ass was literally on fire. Now I am over 50 years old and I openly admit without shame or hesitation that I have had a hemorrhoid or two over the years. They first started at a young age from sitting in a bouncing helicopter but later seemed to go away in my mid life years. I occasionally have a flare up, or drop out it would seem but nothing to serious.

Over what seemed like seconds now, the burning spread to my whole crotch area, including the twins. My friend asked me what was wrong but I barely could catch my breath to explain the events in my nether region. I explained that I must be having an allergic reaction to the toilet wipes. I also quickly explained my ideas of going to the bathroom away from home or work to my friend at which he began laughing hysterically. My friend suggested that we make our way to the closest ER just in case there really was a problem from the “Clean up wipes” that I had used which was actually bathroom cleaning supplies.

I write to you now days later, back from the ER, somewhat humiliated as each and every person at Providence Hospital tried unsuccessfully not to bust out laughing. In the grand scheme of things I chalk this up to another of life’s little oddities. My anus was swollen to the size of a tennis ball (probably more like the size of a golf ball, but it felt much worse) and I had a chemical burn across my butt and other “Important” areas.

Is there a moral to this story? Maybe “One man’s wipes is another man’s misery” or “Clean up wipes, a thousand and # 2 uses”.

Just thought that I would share that but as Lewis Grizzard used to say, “Damn man, I don’t think I’d told that”.


Ice

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Morrison Springs - Ponce de Leon, Florida

Are Showing Your Nipples Appropriate Work Attire?

Biscuits and Whores