3/02/2008

Taint Misbehavin'

No, not that kind of taint, you sick fucks. This is a respectable blog. I'm talking about tainted meat...and I think I got a hold of some. Allow me to excrete myself.

Yesterday afternoon while I was at the neighborhood shopping center conducting my weekend errands, I developed a strong desire to consume a submarine sandwich item. Normally when such a hankering occurs, I head for a Quiznos, a Jersey Mike's, or as a last resort, a Subway. However, this particular shopping center had none of the above, so I was forced to take my business here:




That's right, Stuffy's. Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled with this alternative, but I needed a sandwich more than Ms. Babble needs birth control pills. So I decided to give them a chance.

The dining room was empty, except for one Stuffy's associate diligently vacuuming the crud-encrusted carpet. I figured I simply caught them between the lunch and dinner rush. Undeterred, I sashayed over to the counter and placed my order with the pimply faced sandwich artist. I selected "The Max" with its classic combination of roast beef, turkey, and some other meat product which escapes me at this time. I opted for mayo, lettuce, tomato, and onions. But I am no glutton, so I went with the regular size as opposed to the footlong.

My sandwich was made with great dispatch, and I paid the cashier flunkie and headed home to masticate. And boy did I ever! I shoved that meaty six inches in my mouth and sucked it down like there was no tomorrow. Mmmm, that was good eatin'!!!

Fast forward two hours, and I'm starting to feel a little queasy. Nothing major, just a little gastrointestinal discomfort. I'm doing some straightening up around the house, and I bend over to pick up a butt plug. (How did that get in here?? Must belong to Sassy.) As I retrieve the anal pleasure enhancement device, I suddenly feel dizzy and light headed. Fearing I may pass out, I stumble to the living room and stretch out on the sofa...and I remain there ill and immobilized for over TWO HOURS! My head is throbbing, my back is aching, and my stomach is gurgling the entire time.

I turn on the TV and dial up the CNN. Hillary's giving a speech to some people somewhere. Then it hits me out of nowhere. I need to get to a bathroom, and I need to get to a bathroom FAST. I drop the remote, spring to my feet, and hot foot it to the crapper, tripping over countless more butt plugs along the way. (Geez, Sassy! Pick up after yourself!!)

I perch myself atop my throne and let loose Within mere seconds, that bowl was literally filled to capacity. I stood and turned to admire my creation, and I was astounded. Somehow my six inch sub had managed to turn itself into a footlong - a footlong surrounded by a pool of dark brown sludge of such artistic beauty, I was tempted to alert the Smithsonian Instipoot. Unfortunately, they stopped taking my calls years ago. Their loss.

All of this brings me back to Stuffy's. I can't imagine an ordinary sub sandwich making me this sick. Something had to be terribly wrong with it. I'm not sure, but I suspect that I was given tainted meat. Something about the way that guy was looking at my while he prepared my six incher. Only problem is, I can't prove it...at least not yet.

I did have the foresight to save a sample of my stool. I'm planning to have it analyzed by a stool specialist ASAP. But what I need now is a good lawyer to represent me in court. It should be an open and shut case. Any attorneys out there?? If so, please contact me immediately! My stool is starting to harden!




23 comments:

Wirthy said...

Each time I enjoy a successful bowel movement, I stand up and marvel at what I created. As someone who doesn't plan to have children, it is the closest I will get to the pride a new father must feel.

The [Cherry] Ride said...

Three things:
1. I can't believe I read the entire post. I should have stopped when you started feeling slight gastro discomfort.
2. That's probably the first time you chose the regular over the footlong. And good thing too.
3. The way you described how you "shoved that meaty six inches" in your mouth "and sucked it down like there was no tomorrow" makes me wonder about you, Dyck.

The Middle Lifer said...

Websters Dictionary definition of
Stuffys
Pronunciation:\ˈstə-fē\
Function: adjective
Inflected Form(s):stuff·i·er; stuff·i·est
Date:1798

1: ill-natured, ill-humored
2: lacking in vitality or interest : stodgy, dull
3: To induce erectile dysfunction and projectile vomiting.

The name was a dead giveaway...

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Wirthy - You and me both, pal. Do you pass out cigars too?

Cherry - (1) You got nothing better to do; (2) I can only handle so much meat in one sitting; (3) No, I won't be your girlfriend.

Lifer - What does Webster have to say about Blimpies?

Sassy Blondie said...

Butt plugs, Dyckie? Come on...stop trying to pretend that those were mine. First, I've never been to your house, and second, no one is going to believe that any toys that aren't battery operated would ever interest me...

catscratch diva said...

As a rule, butt plugs are just icky to those of the female gender. Have you thought of trying to find a PRO BONER attorney??

Stan Bull said...

Hilary does seem to have that inspirational touch as far as bowel movements go. Might I observe too that good stool specialists are hard to come by these days...where did they all go to?
I built myself up to go for a massive crap just yesterday and all that came out was a pitiful gust of wind -a whole 3 and a half hours lost!!!!!
I am gutted.

Webmiztris said...

these are the posts that keep me comin' back, dyck. ;)

Drunkbunny said...

My days as an ER nurse taught me about the "Chain of Custody". For a biological sample to hold up in court, it needs to be documented with witnesses as it is collected from the victim, brought to the lab, given to law enforcement, what have you. It involves sealing things with tamper proof stickers (stickers are fun) and signing/initialing a lot of crap.

If you wanted to have a court case, you should have grabbed one of the butt plugs (or just fell on one, since that is how 100% of anal foreign objects "accidentally" get to their surgical-intervention-requiring resting places), and held in that massive poop until you got to a police sub station.

THEN you would have had a case, my dear.

Always follow the Chain of Command techniques.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Sassy - You mean they're not your butt plugs? Then whose are they?? They're not my size!

Diva - I'll do the jokes here, sister.

Stan - Stool specialization is clearly a dying art. The big money these days is in blood and semen.

Miz - Do I know you?

Bunny - I'll have you know I keep all my turds in clearly marked ZipLoc freezer bags.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

All this doody humor keeps me coming back.

Poop.

Poop.

Poop.

Naughty Endevours said...

Having the shits will keep one from having a fulfilling sex life. I'd sue too.

Krissyface said...

I have never enjoyed a descripton of food poisioning so much. I cry from amusement.
And, you know, I'm sorry about your belly. And butt. And toilet.

Maven said...

Shit! You've got Jersey Mike's out by you? I was literally raised on that stuff!

sputnick said...

The pimples should have been a dead giveaway. The Dyck being the Dyck should let no one except a teenage virgin make his sandwiches.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Dr. K - Three poops? Is that all you got??

Naughty - Yeah, it's hard to get it on while you're pinching a loaf.

Krissy - Thanks, thanks, and thanks.

Maven - That explains a lot.

Spitneck - I can't let a virgin make my sandwich! They never know where to put the salami!

Drunkbunny said...

The other day my friend and I went to a restaurant and had dinner and hung out. It was after work so we were still in our fancy business clothes. On the long drive home, her belly started rumbling like Mt. Saint Helens. She knew she was in for a sphincter blowout. She started chanting a mantra in her mind: "Please let me make it home! Please let me make it home!"

Miraculously, she did make it home! As she made the mad dash from her detached garage into her house, she slipped on some ice by the door, fell, and it was a chocolate pudding explosion when she hit the ground.

She got in the shower with her clothes and everything, she made such a mess.

When she told me the story I laughed and laughed.

If only she had kept a butt plug in her glove box, like the rest of us do.

Pud said...

With a name like Stuffy's...I think I would have gotten in the car and drove to a Quizno's. They have a pepper bar.

BUMBLE!!! said...

Sounds like a South Park episode - are you sure that the alleged piece of crap isn't Bono?

puerileuwaite said...

Maybe pimple-boy masticated in your sandwich.

D-HOR said...

Taints - to lick or not to lick? What do you think?

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Bunny - Remind me not to eat at that restaurant.

Pud - What the fuck is a pepper bar?

Bumble - Well I didn't check his ID, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't.

P - Nah. He looked like he hadn't masticated in days.

HOR - Lick at your own risk.

Jake Titus said...

Obvious assasination attempt. He probablly dropped a smelly steamer himself just prior to making your sandwich.

"Yes, can I have the six inch max, lite on the mayo hold the cling-on."

Handwashing is an amazing thing!