I have spent the previous 30 hours or so wrestling with a toilet. As smart as I think I am, it took me forever to connect the instantaneous pain in my guts the to slippery deep fried morsels that had just passed my lips. The next few hours are a disgusting blur of pain and desperation.
I wished during those hours for a chance to simply skip ahead. To leave all this shit, muck, and pain behind. Around midnight I decided to have a puke, a visionary indiscretion I should have considered long before. Not a second after entering the bathroom, a torrent of spew flew from my mouth. I mean this stuff was everywhere, everywhere! All over the toilet, bathtub, floor, walls, not to forget my pants and feet. Yeah!!!
I awakened from my fetal embrace with two truths burning my brain: the chicken had definitely made me sick and the last heave was a bile that had a remarkable similarity to the substance passing through my anus. Fuck yeah!!!
I made love on that toilet all night long. Danced a sherbet flavoured macarana so sweet you could not imagine. Fretful sleep and day dream hallucinations kept me company all day. Do not forget the salty grape juice and nasty crackers. "No watermelons! They will make your arse explode!" We would not want that, now would we?
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