runners love tmi stories.
think back on your last group run. there was at least ONE story told about bowel movements, snot rockets or peeing on your shoes. it happens and us runner types throw decorum out the window when discussing it in great detail with our fellow runners. over the course of the last few weeks, the subject of carrots have come up numerous times and i’ve had the joy of telling a VERY disgusting story about carrots. this is not running related, but i have a feeling that if i don’t tell it here, i’m going to be outed by other folks, so here it goes.
years ago, i worked a second shift as a computer operator. i would often ride my bike into work, an on this day in particular, i hadn’t eaten anything before setting off for the office. i took with me a bag of baby carrots and a tupperware of radishes to serve as a late afternoon snack once i got to the office. it happened to be a summer day, so when i arrived at the office, i was dehydrated and famished. i began stuffing my face with the carrots and radishes and drowning myself with water. i was in heaven and ended up finishing off the entire bag of carrots [not a small bag, by the way].
hours later, i was standing at the computer consol, running jobs and working away at the nightly routines when the discomfort began. you know, that nasty cramping in the stomach that means a good portion of your day is going to be spent visiting the throne room. eventually, the gas came and i was tooting so much you’d think i could have been contracted to do sound affects for thomas the tank engine videos. the flatulence became more intense and so frequent that at times i wasn’t able to control it.
during one bout of rectal explosions, all hell broke loose and along with the gas came solids. and i couldn’t control it. i stood at the consol, realizing that i, as a sober adult, had just soiled myself. i did the crappy crack waddle to the bathroom to survey the damage. once in the stall, i dropped trou and was pleased to see that my shorts had sacrificed themselves and my pants remained unscathed. the shorts came off and the only way i can describe it was that it appeared they had acted as a sort of carrot filter. i had nearly the entire contents of the bag of carrots, in shredded form, in my shorts and the subsequent carrot juice, streaming down my legs.
the clean up was pretty easy with the shorts making a quick trip to the garbage, but i headed home for the rest of the evening, lest my bowels decide to brew another pot of carrot surprise.
so, dear reader, a word to the wise. do not eat an entire bag of carrots in one sitting on an empty stomach…unless, of course, you’re REALLY jonesing for some odw@lla carrot juice and you can’t be bothered to head to the store.
|soundtrack for this post|
|Waiting For The Flood
Love and Rockets
Earth Sun Moon