Warning!!!

*WARNING : ONLY Read This When You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD* *!!!*

  I went to Home Depot recently    while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to crap yourself' South Texas road-kill chili. Tasty stuff, although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off..

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of  coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's  Movement'. Despite the chillies swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morningsymphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck.  Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase..

It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh, Shit, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chillies from the night before were staging a revolt.  In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chillies fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.  Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to dissipate.. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean,
and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.  I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.
.........BIG mistake!!!!!

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean.

With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.  Suddenly things were no longer funny.. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle
of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'.. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.

Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me.  The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then
ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowes. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole
matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.

Just Released!!!

Obama's briefing before he arrived at NMU

 

Aide: "No, mittens. Now, for your opening quip, remember that people in the U.P. do not root for the Detroit Lions."

Obama: "They don't? But it's Michigan."

Aide: "Two things at work there, Mr. President. First, the Lions are the Lions. There aren't a lot of doctorate degrees in the U.P., but people know a loser when they see one. Then there's the fact that Detroit is something like 47 hours from the U.P. while Green Bay is just down the snowmobile trail."

Obama: "You mean road."

Aide: "No, sir, I mean snowmobile trail. It's February. And while I'm on the subject, remember not to joke about spring coming soon.  Remember, in the U.P. winter starts in September and lasts until, well, near as I can tell from these average temperature charts, June. So they're not even halfway  through winter."

 Obama: "Got it. They'll be a bit crabby then."

Aide: "Not at all, sir. Exactly the opposite. A few of them may seem a bit, um, giddy."

Obama: "Snow madness?"

Aide: "No sir, Budweiser. Now, when you look out over the crowd you'll probably notice a lot of people in plaid. Apparently it's the official color of the U.P."

Obama: "But plaid isn't a color, it's a combination of patterns and colors."

Aide: "Just roll with it, sir. Now, a word about the local vernacular. First, some terms you should be aware of. 'Chuk'  or 'chook' means a stocking cap. 'Yah' means 'yes,'   'dat' means 'that,'  and 'dere' means 'there.' So if you meet   someone in a funny cap, you could say ?"

Obama: "Yah, dat's a fine looking chuk ya got dere."

Aide: "Exactly, but remember to add the interrogative 'eh?' to the end of every sentence. They do that up dere er, there. Even though it may sound like a question, it's not. It's just an all-purpose verbal tic, and it can mean different things in different circumstances."

Obama: "Yah, dat dere's pretty odd, eh?"

Aide: "Very good, Mr. President. Oh, and one more thing. If someone says 'Holy wuh!' or 'Holy wah!' it's not a religious expression. It means 'I'm astonished!' or 'I'm disgusted!'  depending on the situation."

 Obama: "Whew, this Upper Peninsula sounds like one strange,  complicated place."

Aide: "You have no idea, Mr. President. That's why we rented a copy of the movie 'Fargo' for you to watch on Air Force One on the flight in. It's about North Dakota, but the accents and people are the same.  Trust me, it'll help."

Dance the night away

My Blackberry Won't Work

This is how I ended up here.

The Janitor's Revenge

FINNISH FIRE DEPARTMENT

    One dark night outside a small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan , a fire started inside the local chemical plant and in a blink of an eye it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around. When the volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fire chief and said, "All our secret formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I will give $50,000 to the fire department that brings them out intact." But the roaring flames held the firefighters
off. Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now $100,000 to the fire department who could bring out the company's
secret files.

   From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby Finnish rural township volunteer fire company composed mainly of Finlanders over the age of 65. To everyone's amazement, that little run-down fire engine roared right past all the newer sleek engines that were parked outside the plant. Without even slowing down it drove straight into the middle of the inferno. Outside, the other firemen
watched as the Finnish old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire fought it back on all sides. It was a performance and effort never seen before. Within a short time, the Finnish old timers had extinguished the fire and had saved the secret formulas. The grateful chemical company president announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to $200,000, and walked over to personally thank each of the brave fire fighters. The local TV news reporter rushed in to capture the event on film, asking their chief, "What are you going to do with all that money?"

"Vell," said Eino Karpinen, the 70-year-old fire chief, "Da first thing ve gonna do is fix da brakes on dat focking truck!"