This summer we got a new pool. I live in Northeast Ohio, and anyone who lives in this region knows what a cool, wet summer it has been. Bad year to buy a new pool. There have only been a few hot days, and the water is usually too cold or the wind too chilly to swim comfortably.
Well, yesterday that 74-degree water helped me out.
Last Saturday I cooked up a big batch of chili with fresh hot peppers picked that morning from my garden. I used the seeds inside the peppers to get all the hot stuff. My stepson recently turned vegetarian (I'm sure his girlfriend pussy-whipped him into it), and my eight-year-old would never touch my chili, so it was up to my wife and I to consume my concoction.
We each had a big bowl for dinner Saturday night. It was brutally spicy, but damn good. So good that after spraying the toilet bowl with hot lava in the wee hours of Sunday morning, my wife vowed not to eat anymore of "that shit."
On Sunday I froze about a pound of chili and heated up another big bowl for lunch. I was yet to take a painful crap. I did defecate, but nothing dangerous. By Monday morning, my poop was getting warmer, but it was a small dry one. Guess what I had for lunch on Monday? You knopw it -- the rest of the chili, topped with mozzarella cheese.
That night, the wife brought home takeout from Chipotle. I got three beef tacos and three chicken tacos, all with their extra hot salsa. Honestly, that salsa was hotter than my chili!
On Tuesday morning, I couldn't shit. I think my asshole knew better. All day long I felt pressure building, and by four o'clock I knew I was soon to birth a monster.
I left work early and went straight to my home toilet. It didn't take much effort to push out about three foot-long molten brown logs.
Oh, the pain. My guts cramped. My asshole burned. Even my balls felt hot! I tried to cool my bung with some wet wipes, but that didn't help. The burning sensation was spreading to my pecker, so I ran to my bedroom and changed into my swim trunks. I boogied outside and jumped into the cold pool water. It was shocking -- but refreshing on my sore poopchute. After about twenty minutes, that cold north wind was giving me frostbite... wait isn't this August?
-- Doniker