Since the Rangers have nothing going on except their pitchers tearing rotator cuffs mowing lawns, or fishing, or playing xbox, or whatever they are doing to screw with my season of late, I have decided to do a 180 degree turn and write about doo doo. I know this is pretty much the hack thing to do, and I don’t advocate anyone else doing it, but screw it, I’ve got nothing better to do this morning. Enjoy the story of one mans incredible struggle with forces of nature…

Anyway, back to the story……I hopelessly wandered about looking for a place to drop this load when I saw my salvation in the distance. Like a vision out of the heavens it read……Family Changing Area. I started running for I knew that no families are at the Joe watching Toby Keith and that the family restroom was my only shot at getting rid of the coming thunder in my gut. As I neared my destination, the pressure started to build…….I finally arrived and discovered to my horror that all the f*cking thing had was changing tables!! Nowhere in sight was a place to take a dump. Now, I am legendary for sh!tting and holding sh!ts, so calmly, I looked for a new place. However, I had not ever had pressure like this before.

Horrified I started to begin my quest a new, when quite suddenly my a$$hole, quite literally exploded! I sh!t my f*cking pants! ……….
Right there…..in the middle of 5,000 people…….. in the concourse at the f*cking Joe Louis Arena….. I sh!t my f*cking pants!
Sh!t was exploding out of my a$$hole filling my pants at an alarming rate, with no sign of stopping. Never in my life had I taken such a big sh!t, and this time it was in my f*cking pants!! Not knowing what to do, I looked for somewhere to go to get my head together. I saw a secluded spot behind the Little Ceasers station. I had to do the stiff legged “poop walk” over to this hallway. As I hobbled over, I noticed sh!t starting to seep out of the bottom of my jeans, creating a poop trail to my hiding spot!! Oh, sweet Jesus what do I do? I am at a concert, my wife is all the way in the sixth f*cking row, and I have an a$$load of sh!t in my jeans!!! To top it off, the nearest bathroom is what seems like miles away!! Just when it can’t get any worse, this beautiful woman sees me bent over with my *** against the wall and says “hey what are you doing over there?” Oh dear God, I think, she is coming this way!!!! I look down and see sh!t all over the top of my shoe!! While I was frantically struggling for what to do next, she walks over and says; “Is this some kind of secret bathroom, everyone else is in line out here?”
“Nah, I am waiting for my wife, why do you ask?”, I say trying to sound unconcerned about the giant tub of butt chile in my pants. “Because it kind of smells like pooh over here”, she replies!!!

I wished for my life to end right there.
I had to stand there for twenty minutes waiting for the concert to start before it got clear enough for my to get to the f*cking bathroom!! When I finally got to the stall, I did not know what to do. I took down my pants and was horrified at the shear volume of sh!t in my pants. I had to rip off my underwear like Conan the Barbarian and throw them in the corner. I looked down and discovered that the sh!t had soaked through to my jeans and that I was covered in sh!t from my balls to my ankles!! I sat down to collect my thoughts and promptly slid off the f*cking toilet seat because I had so much sh!t on my ***! As I lay there in miscellaneous puddles of piss, I wished for my life to end for the second time that night. I stood up and I began to wipe off my butt, thighs and calfs when I noticed sh!t all over my shoe. I took my shoe off. Sh!t was on and in my sock!! I took my sock off. I was now standing naked on one leg with my pants on the floor and a sh!t filled shoe in my hand. All of a sudden ,someone started f*cking banging on the door. “What the hell is going on in there?” someone yells. “F*ck off a$$hole”, I say trying to vent some of my embarrasment as rage. “This is the Detroit Police a$$hole, come out or we are coming in!”, came the reply. “Is something wrong, you have been in there for almost an hour!” Dumbstruck I say, “Oh, its o.k. I sat in some sh!t and I am trying to get it off my jeans”. In between howls of laughter from the other drunken patrons of the sh!thouse came back, “oh don’t worry, take all….the….time….you….need”. I wished for my life to end for the third time that night.
I go back to the task at hand and start scraping the sh!t out of my jeans. Pull, scrape, flush. Pull, scrape, flush. I went through two giant rolls of toilet paper when I discovered that I had run out!! I did not know what to do, or how I was going to get out of here!! I decided to pull up my pants and wrap my sweater around my waist. This left me with only my whitey tighty, but a tight shirt was the least of my worries.

I went to the sink to wash up and headed out. I walked up to the nearest shirt vendor and asked to be given “the biggest f*cking t shirt you have, I don’t care what it says” I happily paid 30 bucks for the “I heart Toby Keith” shirt that the f*cker gave me. I put it on and adjusted my sweater around my waist, ran up to the bar and got
my two drinks, and headed back to my wife.

When I finally got back, she said “where the hell have you been? I was worried”. I did not respond. My wife, being filled with Margerita’s began to dance to “Who’s your daddy?”. “Dance with me babe”, she says. “Nah, I’m good”, I respond. “Whats the matter” she says as she looks into my eyes. “I just sh!t my pants, babe”, I say struggling to hold on to the last vestiges of my manhood.

“YOU WHAT? …………………….DID YOU WIPE OFF? ………………….WHAT DID YOU DO WITH YOUR UNDERWEAR?” came the rapid fire questions. “Do I stink?” I say, “Do you think other people can smell me?” She drunkenly says, “No, I don’t think so”. I related the story, and she asked if I wanted to go…..I said “F*ck no, I paid $300 for these tickets, I am watching this f*cking concert!”

I started to watch the concert and even got into a few songs. Just then I noticed that everytime a adjusted a bit, a God-awful smell would come up. I stood there stiff legged for about an hour with sh!t drying in my pants when I noticed this buxom brunette that was sitting in front of me yelling at her husband. She was looking back saying “Did you just f*cking fart?”, she asks. “NO” comes the response. “Why?” “It smells like someone sh!t there f*cking pants!” she says as she waved the offending smell away from her!! ……….Oh for the love of God………My worst fears were confirmed, people around me could smell!!! Just then one of the two big girls sitting behind my yells, “It smells like a dirty diaper around here!” I wished for my life to end for the fourth and final time that night. After waiting for the proper seconds to tick by, so as not to be connected with the previous comments; I told Jen that we had to leave.

All the way back to the car, I had to walk with sh!t now freezing to my legs. I also had my legs and balls chaffing from the friction of movement. When we finally got to the car, we had to drive all the way home with the windows down. I almost puked from the smell. Forty five humilliating minutes later, I finally arrived at my house!!

I thought you would all appreciate the humor in the situation. Please be advised that it is 100% true and there has been no exaggerations. I will never forget the Toby Keith concert and will never eat at Tom’s Oyster Bar again!! Please feel free to share with your friends so that they don’t have the same experience at Tom’s!!
Un-f*cking-believeable!!!!!!!!!!!!