The Daily Stain

Well, July 4th came and went but I'm still dealing with it. It was a rainy day, our traditional July 4th party at our friend's house relegated us to the garage. It always reminds me of my father in law who always held his barbeque's in his garage...we call it the barbecue on the oil spot because we all sat in the garage on lawn chairs with the oil spot on the floor from a leaky car in the middle of the circle of chairs. Now that's America!!

But I digress. Seems one of our friends had a brilliant idea to run out and grab a couple dozen or three White Castles. I guess he thought it would brighten up the otherwise dreary day we were dealing with in the oil spot...I mean garage.

I think I ate about four and a half White Castle Rectum Rockets as we fondly refer to them. (My youngest couldn't finish hers so I naturally took the rest and woofed it down in one bite). Even though I was stuffed, I could have eaten more but they all were eaten within minutes of arriving. Probably best that they were!!

I have a love hate relationship with White Castles. I love to eat them, that's for sure. I'd love to know what the mystery meat really is, that's for sure. And I'd love to know what in the hell the tasteless, odorless and seemingly invisible sauce is that they put on a burger that gives my innards a mind of its own.

Every time after eating Colon Castles my stomach will make noises that no other food can make it do and I'm convinced it's that covertly added secret sauce on those square fartferters. Even my dog sits up and looks at me with a cocked head in wonderment of just what is coming out of a place on my body that doesn't have a hole that he can sniff (belly button isn't an official hole). One would think that the noises would eventually end up with a good fart. Not so. Seems like the Gullet Grouches like to play a trick on me. The noises are nothing more than a tease of what's to come the next day.

So, on Thursday, the hate part of the Butt Bomb relationship begins. I went to work and immediately upon arriving the games began. I think if it were a real party the song "Let's get this flatuation party started" would have been the theme song aux morning. I must have had six false alarms, six "this is no drill" events and a couple of what seemed to be false alarms that ended up being the real deal in the men's room. And if you haven't learned this one single Murphy's Law by now, listen up...If you choose to fart in your office, you are guaranteed that someone is on their way to see you within the next seven seconds. Just enough time for hang time to waff out wall to wall. So, think twice before farting in your office. I was exhausted at the end of the day. I had to go home and take a long shower, where I sat in a fetal position and cried about the horrible things that were happening to me throughout the day while the remnants of the Burger Bombs washed down the shower drain.

I can't wait for the next round of White Castles!! YUM!!