You really don’t want to read this, I assure you…

I am warning you now, before you decide to read on, that this blog post is just absolutely disgusting. I mean, I have crossed the line many times but never to this point. This blog may single-handedly keep me from having lit-groupies if I ever become a professional writer with any bit of celebrity. That being said, I am still going to write about it. “Why in the world would you do that, Drew?” You may be asking. Because this blog is not for you. This blog is not written to amuse you or keep you abreast of my goings on. It is written as an autobiographical archive for me to reference at any point in my future life for either educational or simply entertainment purposes. I simply choose to share it with you.

So that being said, consider the former paragraph a warning. If you read on you may never think of me the same way again.

Here goes.

I am currently sitting on the toilet with violent diarrhea. I mean the kind that at one point had me crying thinking I may not survive it. It is to the extent that I was pretty convinced there was nothing left in me other than blood and organs and then my body proved me wrong in a most unpleasant manner. It was so bad, in fact, that I had a first happen for me. I decided to flip the switch and release a courtesy flush so that the resulting and permeating odor did not reach other members of the Blank household and cripple or kill them. Now I want to reiterate this is “pre-clean-up”…meaning no wipeage had yet occurred at this point. I reached behind me, as I squatted in the standard shitting position and tugged on the silver lever. The toilet immediately made a very unhappy noise and all the contents that my body was so anxious to expel from itself was now barely circulating the bowl, but quickly rising as if the levees of my own private New Orleans had broken. Quick to action, I took one swift ass swipe with some TP (I didn’t want to stand with a filthy bum), hopped to my feet, spun around, grabbed the plunger with the clear plastic handle that decoratively resembles a monster sex toy, and feverishly began plunging. Problem is, just as has happened again as I type this, I sat for so long the entire lower half of my body had fallen asleep. So there I was, desperately trying to stop a disaster of epic proportions from unleashing itself upon my bathroom floor, in turn destroying a bathmat, a box of tampons and three months worth of MAXIM, when my body began to give out and I started to crumble to the floor. With one hand I was supporting myself on the towel rod of the shower while the other was still trying to reverse the flow of water in the tank by vigorously attacking its hole with an inadequately manufactured “design over function” plumber’s helper. I was thanking a God of who’s existence I am indifferent about at best that the violent expulsion of my innards had resulted in me losing at least fifty pounds, making me light enough to now rely on the shower door for support. Luckily, I did finally reverse the flow of dinners past and released it to the sewery wild, but I was left with a plunger that was in less than new condition. Let’s just say it wasn’t going to bring in a shiny quarter at a yard sale. So even though my body was sending out warning signals that a second attack was imminent, I remained standing and desperately tried to clean off the rubber end of the poorly envisioned yet still effective tool in the cloudy bowl water. Everything did end up working out in the end (or working itself out of my end), but I felt I had to record the first time I clogged the john without any toilet paper.

…………….

Now I am in bed laying next to KGB (known also as “The Furnace”" between the hours of 12am and 7am) because while all was going on in the bathroom, Twisty had to get him out of his bed from a scary dream he was having and being very vocal about. I have a feeling the fumes from my crime against porcelain had wafted into his room and forced nocturnal delusions upon his sweet little boy brain. Poor kid.

Well hopefully you heeded my warning and didn’t read this.

Good night.