A human vocanic eruption

As a man of Asian heritage, I have grew up loving to eat spicy foods. I was never able to escape the burning sensation that came out of my ass every time I had such foods. However, I’ve grown accustomed to such irritation. A little burning here and there is not big deal, so I continued to consume the spicy goodness that my ancestors enjoyed.

On one Sunday morning, I went with a couple of Asian friends to a restaurant specializing in spicy foods. Little did I know, the day after that Sunday was the day my asshole will never forget. At the restaurant, I order many many spicy delicacies from wings marinated in a special spicy sauce to cooked hot peppers. I knew while eating these dishes, with my friends constantly daring me to eat this and that, would result in an unpleasant emptying of my bowels. But I took the consequences lightly, and that was the biggest mistake that I have ever made.

The following Monday, I woke up at around 8am. I was fine and dandy, ready to head to a show with my girlfriend. I did not felt the urge to unload some weight as I usually do in the mornings. At 10am, I arrived at the theater with my girlfriend and we managed to find nice seats in the center of the second row to the the front. Half way through the show, I felt my stomach grinding at something and this grinding result in some gas. I tried suppressing this gas with my clenched ass, but the pain that resulted was to great. So like I have always done in the situation of a fart, I adjusted all my weight on one side of ass cheeks while using the friction to open the other, ultimately opening a nice path for the gas to travel out through. This is my technique for producing the infamous “silent farts.” I quickly released the air, and it slowly spread to the surrounding area almost like a can of mustard gas spreading on a battle field. I was the first victim. The smell entered through my nose, and at that moment, I knew this gas was equal to that of tear gas. My eye’s watered a bit and I started to cough. Other around me slowly started to display the same actions. My girlfriend said to me, “Oh my God, do you smell that?” With a poker face, put I said, “Must be the fella next to you.” Just as I got away with the lie, another gas grenade had it’s pin pulled. I knew I couldn’t release another one, or else I might give myself away. So I clenched tighter with my ass this time, so tight that I was to focused on clenching to pay attention to the show. Suppressing the gas grenade irritated my bowels, and I knew I would have to unload the toxic waste in my ass. I slowly got up and pretended as if I wasn’t in excruciating stomach pains and walked noticeably, but quickly to the bathroom.

Once I got there, I notice quite a crowd. A show must of ended. I patiently and painfully waited for one of the three stalls to open up. When did, I rushed in as if trying to disarm a time bomb! I quickly unzipped my pants and pulled down my boxers like a professional stripper. Before my ass touched the seat of the toilet, a loud roar came about along with what seemed like molten lava. At the same time, I felt a sense of ecstasy as the stomach pains are relieved, but then came another pain. A horrid smell arose and spread throughout the bathroom. I heard a man say “holy shit!” as he quickly rushed out. Next to me, I began to hear the occupied stalls flushing, almost as if someone was in a rush to escape danger. Amongst all these distractions, I didn’t for one second ease. The lava continued shooting out my ass like an elephant shooting water out of his nose. It was like a thick brown liquid of nastiness and pain. My asshole burned like fire as tears flood out of my eyes uncontrollably. I hear another man yell “Jesus Christ!” as he left. For 20 minutes, I sat their erupting a human produced form of lava. I am a man that doesn’t cry. I didn’t even cry at my grandpa’s funeral, but this was a different story. Tears kept rolling down my face between the intervals of each eruption. I was literally expecting the toilet to melt. After the volcano has subsided, I waited a while until I cleaned the area of debris and residue. I was afraid that it might erupt again. Even after thoroughly wiping with almost the whole toilet paper roll, a painful burning sensation remained like no other. It took 3 flushes to get ride of the evidence. I stepped out of my stall into no man’s land. Not a soul was in sight. I washed my hands and headed back to show. My girlfriend asked me where I was for so long, and I cleverly told her I got lost on my way to buy some cigarettes. For the rest of show, I sat in my seat trying to hold back my laughter and feeling pity for anyone who will unknowingly enter the bathroom without waiting at least 3 hours for the smell to dissipate.

About Jared Fiel
Daniel is a humor columnist (as well as a former reporter, former gas station attendant, former fast food worker and current public relations flack).
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