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 **** yourself' 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 chilies swimming their way through my
intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony
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 verandah. 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, ****, gotta go' pain that always seems to
hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The
chilies 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 chilies 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. *******s claim they're going to have
to repaint the store.

Signed,
Walt

"Tom B" wrote in message
...
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 **** yourself' 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 chilies swimming their way through my
intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony
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 verandah. 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, ****, gotta go' pain that always seems to
hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The
chilies 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 chilies 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. *******s claim they're going to have
to repaint the store.

Signed,
Walt

Nothing like a tall tale to start the day. I did laugh out loud. I have
certainly emitted noxious gases to the point that people did object. But
nothing like the above story.

The food that turns me into a methane factory is oatmeal cookies.

Tom B wrote:
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 **** yourself' 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.

[...]


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. *******s claim they're going to have
to repaint the store.


Inasmuch as chilies and jalapenos are known as "nature's Drano," this story
isn't at all OT for "home" repair.

In article , Tom B wrote:
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.
[...]
What a touching story. It brought tears to my eyes.

Thanks for the laugh. Promptly forwarded.

On Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:41:26 -0500, Tom B
wrote:

Snip

Your post reminded me of this classic:


Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off.
The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened
to be standing there at the judge's table asking directions to the
beer tent, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two
judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and,
besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, So I
accepted.


Here are the scorecards from the event:


Chili # 1 -- Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
Judge # 1 - A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 - Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild
Judge # 3 - Holy ****, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove
dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames
out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.


Chili # 2 -- Arthur's Afterburner Chili
Judge # 1 - Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 - Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken
seriously.
Judge # 3 - Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what
I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who
wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more
beer when they saw the look on my face.


Chili # 3 -- Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
Judge # 1 - Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 - A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 - Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels
like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now.
Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now
my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting ****-faced
from all of the beer.


Chili # 4 -- Bubba's Black Magic
Judge # 1 - Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 - Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish
or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 - I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable
to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the
barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb.
bitch is starting to look HOT -- just like this nuclear waste I'm
eating. Is chili an aphrodisiac?


Chili # 5 -- Linda's Legal Lip Remover
Judge # 1 - Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground,
adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 - Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must
admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 - My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and
I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me
needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that
her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from
bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if
I'm burning my lips off. It really ****es me off that the other
judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.


Chili # 6 -- Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety
Judge # 1 - Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of
spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 - The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and
garlic Superb.
Judge # 3 - My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous,
sulfuric flames. I **** myself when I farted and I'm worried it will
eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me
except that slut Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't
feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone.


Chili # 7 -- Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili
Judge # 1 - A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 - Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of
chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am
worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he
is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 - You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I
wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world
sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with
chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of
lava-like **** to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy,
they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, its too
painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air,
I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.


Chili #8 -- Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili
Judge # 1 - The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too
bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge #2 - This final entry is a good, balance chili. Neither mild
nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed
out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not
sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have
reacted to really hot chili.

On Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:41:26 -0500, Tom B
wrote:

WARNING: ONLY Read This When You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD.
major snipage

For you "normal" people out the

For us diabetics who rely on Metformin for our healthy existence, this
story is WAY funny/NOT funny. It depends.

-Zz

In article , Zz Yzx wrote:
On Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:41:26 -0500, Tom B
wrote:

WARNING: ONLY Read This When You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD.
major snipage

For you "normal" people out the

For us diabetics who rely on Metformin for our healthy existence, this
story is WAY funny/NOT funny. It depends.

"Depends"?

Sorry, couldn't resist...

"Zz Yzx" wrote in message
...
On Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:41:26 -0500, Tom B
wrote:

WARNING: ONLY Read This When You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD.
major snipage

For you "normal" people out the

For us diabetics who rely on Metformin for our healthy existence, this
story is WAY funny/NOT funny. It depends.

-Zz

HaHaHa, good one. "Depends". HaHaHa. :-(

Max

I have a Shih Tzu with lactose intolerance... quiet, but deadly. Even
HE will leave the room on occasion.