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From: jeremiah@bbi.com (Jeremiah Kristal) Newsgroups: alt.drunken.bastards Subject: Old friends can get away with serious shit Date: Tue, 08 Aug 2000 04:41:35 GMT OK, my old roommate from college(1) called me a couple months ago to mention that since his company was unable to come up with $7billion ($98732987439253 canadian, twice that Namibian)(2) and were penalized by being aquired be another company he was going to be sent up here to be indoctrinated into the new JoeSnoopy culture. This would of course involve him getting here early to hang out with me and drink. I left work early Friday to 'pick him up from the airport' (3) and was just smoked a joint, drinking a beer, and enjoying that clean piney scent when he showed up. He joined me in a beer or several, and then a smoke and more beer, and then he got a phone call from his employee(4), seems he had invited her to hang out with us. We head out and run into RHB(5) so invite him to dinner too, get to Korean restaraunt, have beer or three waiting for employee to show up. She shows up, we order and eat to varying degrees of success(6). We go out drinking, followed by more drinking, followed by even more drinking. At some point it's 3:30am, and I've been up for 22 hours, and drunk and/or stoned for 11 hours, so I head out and leave guest and employee in capable hands of RHB and roomie(7), who we ran into about bar #3. I munched a slice of pizza on the way home, drank some water, and went to bed.
Got up in morning, way too early, played geeky on-line vidgame for several hours, go take shower, something stinks, so after much scrubbing only smell soap 'cause it went up my nose, brush teeth, go get dressed. Back into bathroom, something really smells nasty, look around for catshit, none there. Look at toilet, put lid down, see nasty turd there, that has been crushed up against tank and smeared all over lid. Resist urge to gag, go back to room, drink
water, smoke pot to calm down. Try to remember if I was drunk enough to shit on my own toiletlid. Pretty sure I wasn't, but since it's my apartment, and people are going to be stopping by later, I go back in and clean it. Nastiest job ever, ugh, don't wanna talk about it. Can't get it all clean, head out to drink a beer and let breath clear air. Guest wakes up and after a bit of talking mentions something about a dream of taking a dump on a rock, show him remains of evidence, he finishes cleanup, feels very embarrassed. The only thought that kept me going as I was trying to scrub the shit off was the fact that I had my own phantom shower shitter. Nobody in this story is named Heath, so Jaz must have been the one.
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