My favorite story (not mine – Plagiarism)

January 13, 2007 at 11:59 pm Leave a comment

This one has to be the funniest story I have ever read. My wife and I were talking about something, I can’t remember what, and she brought up this story. I remember laughing so hard at this that I nearly peed my pants. To share it with the rest of the world, here it is


1. If you have a weak stomach, you may not want to read on!
2. If you laugh at potty humor like I do, you may want to have something to soak of the tears of laughter.

Now, read on-

Sometimes, you just start the day out really badly.

I slept late on Saturday morning. When I groggily awoke, the first thing I noticed was the gassy pressure in my abdomen. My insides were more fizzy than soda.



As I peered into the living room, I saw my wife sitting on the couch watching television, her back toward me. She was a sitting duck and well deserving of a farting-upon, as she had started a fart-fight in bed the night before.

Like a flabby, naked cat burglar, I stealthily stepped over the baby gate on the bedroom door and made my way into the living room. I stepped lightly, walking on the balls of my feet, lest the sound of displaced carpet fibers give away my presence. Just as I reached the couch, she moved.


Also quietly, I dropped into a crouch behind the sofa, confident that she couldn’t see me.


DAMN it! My gas was going to give me away! Afraid that I’d blown my approach, I remained in my crouch for what seemed like minutes. Then finally, I carefully raised my head above the level of the backrest, and was relieved to see that she had only changed positions. Her head was now resting on the big, padded arm of the couch. Perfect!

Creeping along the back of the couch, I rounded the corner to the end of the couch her head was resting on, quickly stood up, my ass level with the top of her head, and cut loose with what may be the finest fart I’ve ever had the privilege of passing.


‘What he @#%$?” she screeched as she sprung up from the couch, her face a twisted indicator of shock and horror.

*RPPPPPPPPPP*…”I GOT You!” I exclaimed, still pushing air out of my recturm. *Rppppp-Rppppp-Rppppp-SPLORPP!!!”

My eyes went wide.

I suddenly felt the hot splatter of booty stew bursting from my overworked bung. I quickly snapped a hand back there, catching about 2 tablespoons of butt pudding just in time to stop it from falling on the new carpet. I simultaneously puckered my ass shut, lest any more escape.

I froze and looked at her.

She looked at me. “OH my god. Oh MY god. Oh my GOD. Did you just @#%$ yourself?!? You just @#%$ yourself, didn’t you? OH. My god. Oh. My. God! Ohmigod! You @#%$ yourself!?!?!?”

I looked around frantically, trying to see if there was something within arm’s reach that I could grab to sop up the rectal gravy that was in my hand (which was still cupped tightly under my assailed buttcheeks in fear that anything sticking to my bottom might drip off). Alas, there was nothing. Squatting down into a near-sitting position to keep gravity from spilling more of my ass innards on the backs of my thighs, I duck-walked my way into the bathroom with my hand still cupped beneath my cornhole. As I walked, I could hear my wife behind me.

“Oh. My. @#%$. God. You STINK!!” she exclaimed, wrinkling up her nose and waving her hand to dissipate the odor. “And I can’t believe you almost @#%$ on my head!!”

Struggling, got myself positioned over the toilet, and only then did I have the courage to face what was in my hand. It looked like gravy, if you take your gravy with corn and carrot fibers in it, that is. I poured it into the toilet, watching the smelly brown mass trickle down like syrup. Then I sat down on the pot to exorcise the rest of my bung-demons as I wiped my hand down with a wad of toilet paper big enough to choke Rosie O’Donnell..

“Out! ” I cried. *SQUISSSSSSH!* I pushed again. *SQUISSSSSSSSH!* “The power of Christ compels you!” *burble* *SQUISSSSSSSH!* “Trouble me no more, foul booty stew!” *SQUISSSSSSH!* *plipple* *SQUISSSSSSH!*

The resultant sounds that issued forth from my ass were indescribable, but eerily similar to the sound of cake frosting being stirred in a large bowl by a man with a growling stomach. Odd thing, that. Hm.

I pushed. *SQUISSSSSSH!* I pushed again. *SQUISSSSSSH!* I pushed once more. *POP!*

“Owwwch!” I shouted, feeling certain that I had turned myself inside-out with that last push.

Once the flash flood had stopped, I bent over like a faggot on a submarine and side-stepped into the shower. Quickly turning on the flow and aiming my ass toward the water, I watched the sickening brown water trickle down my legs and into the drain. I remained in that position until the water ran clear.

I exited the shower to find my wife laughing hysterically. She couldn’t even talk, poor thing, she was laughing so hard. Tears were streaming down her face.

“I can’t believe you…” HA ha HA ha HA ha HA “…@#%$ yourself…” HA ha HA ha HA ha HA “…and the way you ran in here…” HA ha HA ha HA ha HA HA ha HA ha HA ha HA HA ha HA ha HA ha HA HA ha HA ha HA ha HA…

I turned my ass toward her and backed up in her direction quickly. The laughter stopped immediately as she sprinted from the bathroom.

“That’s what I @#%$ thought!” I yelled after her.

Shaking my head ruefully, I turned my attention to toweling off and then digging through the medicine cabinet for some Imodium AD.


“Oh, @#%$.”


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