The DC Shart

I am going to reveal to you a very embarrassing moment in my life that i could have chosen to keep private.  there is no way that anyone would have known, ever, if i did no disclose this hilarious and disgusting story.  for the sake of entertainment, i hope you enjoy this humiliating but honest story that happened on a solo car trip to Washington DC.  Also, if this happened to anyone and I knew about it, i would be telling you so its only fair.


It was a typical dreary Ohio day and I was making a road trip to an Marine Corps housing complex in DC.  A friend of mine was working for the NSA and his little brother (also my friend) wanted to move back to Ohio to start a band.  Even though he sucked (and so did I), I indulged his request to drive nearly 600 miles to pick him up.

I started by packing a small bag of clothes.  I was only staying one night so I figured some sweats to sleep in and  a fresh T-shirt would be enough.  I stopped at the gas station for cigarettes and red bull.  I took a whiz, filled the gas tank and started heading eastbound on I-70.  I was sporting a new pair of corduroys and a comfortable pair of boxer briefs.  In my opinion briefs are like putting your boys in a noose and boxers are like uncaging a pair of wolverines.  Plus, with boxers, you run the risk of getting un adjusted and sitting on your own balls!  if you are saying to yourself right now "what the hell is he talking about?  I wear boxers and have never sat on my balls" then you have tiny balls and should not post a comment on this blog.

Ok, moving along.  as i am heading down I-70 I start to get some pretty wicked whiskey farts from the night before.  The smell is so nasty I have to roll down the window, but just a little coz everyone likes their own brand, right?  I make it past Buckeye lake and I'm feeling good.  Only 565 more miles to go.  I have plenty of smokes, red bull is still cold, and Nickleback is playing on the stereo.... wait, thats just the farts blowing out my ass, i always get those two mixed up!

My stomach starts aching a bit and i know its the gas.  I have a whiskey hangover and I mixing red bull and cheetos to the mix.  I try to rip another butt belch but i can't.  "Damn!' i think to myself.  "This is definitely gonna put a damper on my road trip"  After some growling and sharp abdominal pain i feel the juices flowing again and hike a leg up to let one escape.

It's loud and wet sounding, but on top of that I think there is some matter in the mist.  I freeze. "Oh Shit!" I think to myself.  by this time I have no clue what is transpiring on the road around me.  All i can think about is how the possible streak is going to ruin these bad ass corduroys!  I slowly put my hiked leg back down towards the seat.  Every centimeter my leg descends i am more certain that i have, yes, you guessed it, SHARTED!  I am in denial, but as my ass cheek presses to the seat i can deny that shart no more.  There is a distinctive feeling that you get when your tightly conforming boxer briefs have been splattered with deuce juice.  A tear comes to my eye, but there is no time for crying I have to think fast.  Yes, I have just shit my pants no more than 50 miles into a 600 mile journey to DC!  Even worse, I have only sweats and a t shirt to change into.

Still traveling down the highway I notice in my peripheral a huge McDonald's.  you know, the ones with the place place and a door on the side of the building towards the back.  My brain is working extremely fast under the circumstances, and I swerve immediately towards the exit.  I don't want to back track 50 miles.  My plans are ot get to DC with time to party.  I pull into the McDonald and park.  I'm hesitant to move form my seat as I have managed to position myself in such a way that has trapped the "flow" from venturing any further from its current location.  i open the door and poop out.  I mean, pop out.

Cheeks clenched i walk like towards the back entrance of the McDonald's.  The door is right by the bathrooms and for that reason there is absolutely no one sitting at the tables nearby.  I am only steps away from my salvation!  I enter the door and sneak haste-fully to the bathroom.  Now I do something I have never done before.  I use the handicap stall.  I feel guilty, but i am going to need room to operate.

Let me apologize to the minimum wage poor asshole who got stuck with bathroom duty because what happens next is something so cruel it should be reserved for capitol punishment dealt out to only the world's most violent criminals.   I wash up with damp paper towels and peel the boxer briefs away with caution.  Oh, the smell is horrible.  It's like Indian food, jack Daniels, and Detroit air all blended with a sewage catalyst!  i must get rid of the evidence and i am not bringing these back to be washed so they go the only place they can go.  The bathroom waste paper basket.  I scrub the shit out of my hands and leave before i can be seen.

now i think I have made a clean get away, but I am wrong. the get-a-way is anything but clean.  i open the door to my 2 door light pick up only to find a streak on the seat that looks like a silhouette of California.  to my good fortune I have several beach towels behind the seat of my car.  i cover the seat, but get to thinking..... If this streak is on the seat, it had to go all the way through my corduroys!  the very corduroys I am now free balling in!  So back into the McDonald's I go, this time with my sweatpants.  I do some extra scrubbing and on go the sweats.  As for the corduroys, you guessed it.  Trash can.

For months I did not fart in the car or anywhere away from the privacy and comfort my own home where a closet of clothes and fully functional shower is always close by.