another shit story
my friend moved into a new house recently with her partner and their young daughter. anxious to show off her new abode, she invited me to lunch. it was a very nice lunch, jacket spuds topped with thai green prawn curry.
unfortunately, i suffer from I.B.S.*
even more unfortunately, curry goes through me faster than a copy of cosmopolitan through a nunnery.
making the excuse that i was desperate for a pee, i staggered my way upstairs and into her brand-new, pristine white bathroom. turning the cold tap on full blast to cover the noise, i sat down and released my load of spicily-scented arse gravy. bliss!
20 relief-filled seconds later, i reached for the toilet roll, only to discover that the remaining 2 sheets were glued to the cardboard tube. now, i wasn't going to wipe myself with the tube, i've done that once before and refuse to subject my poor chocolate starfish to such cardboard-induced lacerations again.
looking around desperately, i see something on the floor, just within reach. my hostesse's 4-year-old daughter's favourite rag doll. this doll was about 2 feet long and dressed in a flowing, floral number.
aha! thinks i, salvation!
yes, i wiped my arse on that poor doll's dress and flushed it. thank god my friend hadn't chosen a soft-flush toilet!
i left very shortly after, saying i had just remembered a doctor's appointment.
nothing was said about it but, when i phoned her later that evening, i could hear the most heartwrenching sobbing in the background. it was her daughter, completely inconsolable over the unexplained loss of her beloved doll's dress.

guilty? hell, no! it was her curry that gave me the squits!

*Irritable Bowel Syndrome
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 17 Nov 2007, 3:00, Reply)