Ah.... pues esta cabron!!.. Chale.. a mi no me gustaria que el narco diera la direccion de mi casa.
Pues ojala y que la gente no crea que tienes alguna relación con esos cabrones, aunque lo mas seguro es que la PGR ya te esta investigando y sabe todo sobre ti a estas alturas... hummmm.
--------------------------****** COOOOMICO
I was at a friend of a friend of a friend's house for a party this weekend, which roughly translated means I knew only 2 people in the entire place. I was standing around clueless, being introduced to a bunch of people I wouldn't remember in the morning and wishing my wife wasn't having such a good time so we could get the hell out of there, when suddenly the urge to relieve myself struck.
Being a rather simple problem with a rather simple solution, I made my way to the restroom off of the main hall downstairs with nary a thought about the situation. I entered the tiny half-bath and closed the door behind me, and as I heard the soft click of the latch make its way shut I unzipped and prepared to do what came naturally. I bent down and as I lifted the lid, shock and surprise filled me as I saw what I swear to god was the largest log of fecal matter I have ever seen in my entire life floating on the surface of the crystal blue water.
To say this thing was large is a total understatement. This thing was enormous. Think "Subway 12 inch sandwich" and you would be on the right track. Now, Think Jared Fogle before the Subway diet and you would be almost right on the mark.
It was that big.
The very first thought that came to my mind was "JESUS HOLY FUCK! whose anus is large enough to accommodate THAT?" but other, more urgent matters made their presence known. So I proceeded to evacuate my bladder into the toilet. I tried my best to aim for the porcelain right above the water line at the back of the bowl so as to better accommodate the entrance of my waste into the bowl without disturbing the monument to poor dietary habits that had been left there. Things progressed naturally until my mind started to release its grip on the aiming of the stream and started thinking more about how on earth something of that magnitude could have made its way out of any human being, at which point the stream intersected with the lump o' foul and began misting up and out of the bowl.
This thing had rendered my urine aerosol.
There was now this spray of urine against the tank of the toilet and the walls immediately on either side.
"Drat!" I said in my mind, which came out of my mouth sounding like "FUCK!" I cursed the fiend who had left this present for me to contend with. Now I had to clean a mess that, by all rights, shouldn't have occurred.
I finished my business and shook two times, then I put away the hardware and proceeded to deal with the task of cleaning my urine off of the walls and tank. I looked at the toilet paper roll.
None.
I looked back into the toilet bowl and noticed, quite incidentally, that there happened to be a complete lack of toilet paper in there as well.
Now, normally when faced with a urine on the wall situation which has the added fun of a lack of cleaning material, one thinks "how on earth am I going to clean this now?"
But my mind was locked on the fact that whoever left this massive loaf of gross DID NOT WIPE AFTERWARD.
That, mixed with some of the worst crab dip I have possibly ever eaten, did it. Knowing that someone I have or probably would associate with this evening was out in the living room with what had to be a bleeding rectum due to the sheer magnitude of the gift it bestowed mixed with... well... feces just made me completely ill.
I vomited.
Into the toilet.
With the "gift".
Once the shock from the spasm one goes through when initially projecting the vomit out of their esophagus, my eyes opened to see this vomit and urine covered brick of poo floating in the now green bowl of my friend's toilet. Out of sheer reflex, I winced and turned my head. While still vomiting.
The linoleum was nuked.
I looked around for something to wipe my mouth with, and found nothing. No washcloths, no towels, nothing. So now, there was vomit on the linoleum, urine on the walls, and a toilet full of the nastiest witches' brew of disgusting things.
And nothing to clean it up with.
Naturally, at that exact moment, someone else decided they needed to use the restroom and knocked at the door.
"Just a minute!"
I hit the sink, rinsed out my mouth, and came to my senses: I had to deal with this situation, and fast.
I thought the best way to get started was to get rid of the soup that was beginning to ferment in the bowl, so i flushed. The water swirled and green nastiness was replaced with blue freshness... all but for the gigantic link still bobbing in the toilet.
Beautiful.
I flushed again. It bobbed and spun, but would NOT go down the evacuator.
*bang bang*
"Hold on just a moment!"
"Hurry up, I really need to go!"
"Can't you use the other bathroom?"
"Someone's already in it."
"Sounds remarkably similar to this one, doesn't it... why don't you go bang on that door?"
"Because I'm already down here and I REALLY gotta go! Please hurry!"
Realizing that there is no way I could possibly leave this situation the way it was and maintain a dignified relationship with anyone who would enter that den of filth after me at ALL, and that any explanation I could possibly give would never actually do the job of causing people to understand the scene in there, I knew that drastic measures were going to have to be taken to solve this little paradox.
I realized that under my Rangers jersey, I was wearing a brand new, straight out of the package Hanes tm t-shirt. Without thinking about the fact that it is February and jerseys aren't exactly the warmest of garments, I pulled both shirts off and put the jersey back on. I wet the t-shirt and began the arduous task of mopping up the mess I had created.
As I mopped up the lake of illness on the floor and rinsed and wrung out the t-shirt, I couldn't help but think that, considering the Rangers' recent performance, I had probably picked the more valuable of the 2 garments to perform this unholy duty with.
Finally, I had managed to get the mess up and return the floor, walls, and tank to a state more closely resembling cleanliness than the recent past had provided.
And not a moment too soon, because just as I had wrung the last of my sick out of the t-shirt, the pounding started again.
*BANG BANG BANG BANG*
"HURRY UP IN THERE!"
"Almost finished! Just another second!"
"It's been 10 minutes! Jesus, what are you doing in there?"
"Praying!"
"Oh, come on!"
"No, I am. I am a Scientologist. We pray in the restroom."
"WHY??"
"The smoothness of the porcelain better resonates our thoughts to our Xenusian brothers."
"What are you talking about??"
"On the "advanced" levels (called OT levels) above the state of "Clear", we encounter Xenu. Xenu gathered up all the overpopulation in this sector of the galaxy, brought them here to Earth and then exterminated them using hydrogen bombs. The souls of these murdered people infested the body of everyone. They are called "body thetans". We gotta get rid of them by praying in linoleum rooms."
"..."
"It's all very complicated. If you would like, i can recommend a book you can read...
"Would you just shut up and HURRY THE FUCK UP??"
"Don't cast my religion off, you fascist!"
"HURRY UP!"
"Yah, ok, I'm almost done."
*mumble mumble* *BANG* "fucker...
The enemy had been silenced. This left me with the issue of the world's largest contiguous mass of waste matter to contend with.
I looked for a plunger or a can of air freshener - anything I could lift it out of the bowl with. No luck. The only resort was to grab the poo with the t-shirt, wrap it up, and throw it away.
So I put the shirt around my hand.
I reached into the tank.
I grabbed the monster and wrapped it up. I looked for a garbage can.
FUCK! NO GARBAGE CAN!!
*BANG BANG*
"I'M TIRED OF WAITING! OPEN THIS DOOR AND GET OUT!"
Fine. He wants me out? I'll leave then.
I placed the wet and discolored former t-shirt on the counter, opened the door, and came face to face with this irate bastard.
"Real quick, are you doing number one or number two?"
"What the hell does it matter?"
"Believe me, it does. Which one?"
"Two, why?"
"There's no paper. You are going to have to use that old towel there on the counter. Don't worry, it's clean. I just used it to wash my face a second ago."
"Thanks, buddy."
*SLAM* *click*
About 5 minutes go by.
From the other side of the downstairs bathroom door came the most hideous shriek you have ever heard, followed by a string of vulgarity so artistically crafted, it could only be rivaled by my father. I decided that this was a good time to make my way out of the apartment and down the street to the Waffle House at the corner - A place I knew I could have a decent cup of coffee and not worry if any of it will come out and end up on the walls later.
~Joe the Peacock