Funny link, gross story
Only two people sign up, eh? I have like 30 people on my friends' list and only two bother... interesting.
Anyway, this is hilarious, I'm sure you'll love it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZ_mlwnAmr0
It's someone describing the movie march of the penguins.
Now, for the really gross story. If you are faint of heart, I suggest you stop reading right about now. So Dean, a friend of his and I are hanging out in DC. I'd ordered a pasta dish with mussels, scallops, and shrimp and found the whole thing very difficult to eat because it all tasted so fishy. Flash forward to five hours later or so when we're at a hookah bar at two in the morning. This place is clean enough and their shisha is outstanding. I'm having a great time until I start to feel really nauseous. I can't shake the feeling so I run off to the bathroom, where the first thing I smell is the incredibly strong odor of urine. The toilet is leaking into a tupperware container and the floor is wet. I sit down, hoping I'll be all right and as soon as I do I'm up again puking into the sink. There was no time to think about the toilet, no time to turn around. I give it three good heaves and I'm feeling immediately better. Turn on the sink to wash it all down and... fuck, the sink's clogged. I water the putrid mess down, hoping that will help, but the sink just fills and fills. I'm picturing these poor hardworking people who work there having to clean up my vomit at five in the morning when all they want to do is go home and crawl into bed and a wave of pity washes over me. I want nothing more than to bolt out the door, but I feel I owe these checker playing, coffee making, sleepless men something and I start thinking fast. Maybe I didn't think hard enough, because I started to scoop the vile stuff out of the sink with my bare hands and put it in the toilet. I tried in vain to remove the stopper, but alas, it was not a model that would allow it. So I continued on with the scooping, realizing only when I had a little over a scoopful left, that the sink would not magically drain itself and that given another customer trying to wash his hands even with the absence of soap, my dinner would resurface in all its glory. In a panic, I start looking under the sink for something, anything that could save me from the shame of having to run out of there at four in the morning with guilt tattooed on my face. Aside from eight million stacks of toilet paper, I see a plunger and the hope for my salvation. I'd never seen a plunger used on a sink before, but it couldn't hurt, so I started plunging away at the mess. When I heard the "burp" of air moving through the pipes my chest swelled with victory and I once again resumed my tactic of washing it down, taking time to plunge it down now and again as well. At this point, I'm so happy I'm going to get out of this undiscovered that I have no shame in picking up the larger pieces and flushing them down the toilet. I even dry off the floor with a wad of toilet paper, give the toilet a wipe down and take one last look at the sink before I go back to Dean and tell him we should leave ASAP. I promise you, dear readers, that I was not in the slightest drunk for this saga. With any luck, that will be the grossest episode involving a public toilet or sink that I'll ever have to endure.
I told you it was gross.
Anyway, this is hilarious, I'm sure you'll love it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZ_mlwnAmr0
It's someone describing the movie march of the penguins.
Now, for the really gross story. If you are faint of heart, I suggest you stop reading right about now. So Dean, a friend of his and I are hanging out in DC. I'd ordered a pasta dish with mussels, scallops, and shrimp and found the whole thing very difficult to eat because it all tasted so fishy. Flash forward to five hours later or so when we're at a hookah bar at two in the morning. This place is clean enough and their shisha is outstanding. I'm having a great time until I start to feel really nauseous. I can't shake the feeling so I run off to the bathroom, where the first thing I smell is the incredibly strong odor of urine. The toilet is leaking into a tupperware container and the floor is wet. I sit down, hoping I'll be all right and as soon as I do I'm up again puking into the sink. There was no time to think about the toilet, no time to turn around. I give it three good heaves and I'm feeling immediately better. Turn on the sink to wash it all down and... fuck, the sink's clogged. I water the putrid mess down, hoping that will help, but the sink just fills and fills. I'm picturing these poor hardworking people who work there having to clean up my vomit at five in the morning when all they want to do is go home and crawl into bed and a wave of pity washes over me. I want nothing more than to bolt out the door, but I feel I owe these checker playing, coffee making, sleepless men something and I start thinking fast. Maybe I didn't think hard enough, because I started to scoop the vile stuff out of the sink with my bare hands and put it in the toilet. I tried in vain to remove the stopper, but alas, it was not a model that would allow it. So I continued on with the scooping, realizing only when I had a little over a scoopful left, that the sink would not magically drain itself and that given another customer trying to wash his hands even with the absence of soap, my dinner would resurface in all its glory. In a panic, I start looking under the sink for something, anything that could save me from the shame of having to run out of there at four in the morning with guilt tattooed on my face. Aside from eight million stacks of toilet paper, I see a plunger and the hope for my salvation. I'd never seen a plunger used on a sink before, but it couldn't hurt, so I started plunging away at the mess. When I heard the "burp" of air moving through the pipes my chest swelled with victory and I once again resumed my tactic of washing it down, taking time to plunge it down now and again as well. At this point, I'm so happy I'm going to get out of this undiscovered that I have no shame in picking up the larger pieces and flushing them down the toilet. I even dry off the floor with a wad of toilet paper, give the toilet a wipe down and take one last look at the sink before I go back to Dean and tell him we should leave ASAP. I promise you, dear readers, that I was not in the slightest drunk for this saga. With any luck, that will be the grossest episode involving a public toilet or sink that I'll ever have to endure.
I told you it was gross.