My mind loves to peer into dark claustrophobic, terrorizing depths, loaded with loathsome creatures of torturous imagination. Then I splay my feet across the opening and catapult myself back in time and grab up an incident free of the darkness, made up of only sunbeams and situational mayhem. This is one of those.
Keep in mind that I work hard at self deprecation.
This shall be brief.
About 15 years ago we were visiting Las Vegas with my mom and dad. We decided to eat brunch at a now gone buffet at the now gone Maxims near the strip. Maybe more than 15 years ago because I was wearing cut off Osh Gosh. For some reason I have never been able to figure out, I neglected to wear underwear that day. I need to speed through this- we ate well, I sneezed HARD, the bathroom was 50 feet away and it was, well, too late anyway, Amy asked what was wrong, realized, snorted, (she knew I was sans tighty whiteys), my parents were momentarily spared, my left sock was stained, I grabbed my shorts in a bunch and casually sidelong sprinted for the commode while Amy guffawed her way out to the car for supplies, I stripped down in a stall, Amy banged on the door of the -thankfully- vacant restroom, I called her in, she tossed clean clothes over the top of the stall, stifled a laugh and left to talk to my parents, I prayed thanks for clean toilet water, swiped and wiped, dressed, headed out, made it back to the hotel, burned my clothes and took an hour long shower.
As I said, I work hard at self deprecation. Self defecation, however, comes by naturally.
Keep in mind that I work hard at self deprecation.
This shall be brief.
About 15 years ago we were visiting Las Vegas with my mom and dad. We decided to eat brunch at a now gone buffet at the now gone Maxims near the strip. Maybe more than 15 years ago because I was wearing cut off Osh Gosh. For some reason I have never been able to figure out, I neglected to wear underwear that day. I need to speed through this- we ate well, I sneezed HARD, the bathroom was 50 feet away and it was, well, too late anyway, Amy asked what was wrong, realized, snorted, (she knew I was sans tighty whiteys), my parents were momentarily spared, my left sock was stained, I grabbed my shorts in a bunch and casually sidelong sprinted for the commode while Amy guffawed her way out to the car for supplies, I stripped down in a stall, Amy banged on the door of the -thankfully- vacant restroom, I called her in, she tossed clean clothes over the top of the stall, stifled a laugh and left to talk to my parents, I prayed thanks for clean toilet water, swiped and wiped, dressed, headed out, made it back to the hotel, burned my clothes and took an hour long shower.
As I said, I work hard at self deprecation. Self defecation, however, comes by naturally.
one stinks.one does not.
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