Oh My Sorry Ass...

So fuck, you live your life trying to be a nice guy with a reputation for giving head to bisexual chicks, no problems except for the usual shit. So a few nights ago I was home watching "Deliverance" with my room-mate - no queer jokes please, I get enough of those from cootersnap. And hey, it was on, it wasn't like we went to the effort to put in a tape. Anyway, Ned's big scene was coming up in maybe 10 or 15 minutes, I forget which, I hadn't watched it for the past couple of months. Anyway, I had just eaten a big hamburger pizza (don't forget the pig is a filthy animal) and the pressure in my lower regions was calling to be relieved. So I thought I'd hit the can, do my business, and get back with a few minutes to spare for Ned's career-defining role. Unfortunately, this was not to be the case.

As soon as I sat down on the throne I knew something was amiss.

However, out of deference to some of my fairer readers, I will not go into the graphics of the ensuing mishap that, suffice it to say, felt like my entrails were being ripped out in a staccato fashion. This went on for what seemed like hours, but really only lasted until the next commercial break during "Deliverance". Yes, I missed Ned's stellar performance, but certainly put on one of my own. Did I squeal like a pig? What are you, some kind of sick fuck? Pigs are unclean... I already told you. I'd like to think I bellowed more like a bull in heat.

Up! I gotta call. Seems like Mrs. Schuber needs a ride to Hy-Vee for her afternoon coffee clatch. Man, these afternoon hacking shifts are boring as fuck.