Right after I took the first bite of the first of my highly-esteemed Popeye's spicy chicken strips, I tried to fart and nearly shit myself.
Tonight has not been a fun night.
I held out as long as I could, but five miles short of my destination this evening I yarked all over the side of the road. Now I'm visiting the toilet every five minutes. My stomach is in knots. If I wasn't 200 miles away from home, I'd call in sick tomorrow.
I feel like poo.
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