That awkward moment when... you realize that you, an accomplished and amazing human being, just shit your pants.

I wish to share with you a short narrative from my, not so far off, childhood. While memories of this chilling event do bring to me feelings of pure, unadulterated, shame I believe that my acknowledgement of it gives me the appearance of possessing enormous lady balls.

 November 5th. 2009. A day on which the humble pie was falling in copious amounts from the sky and onto my head, one could say there was a surplus in the self deprecating dish. A day upon which my dignity, and my panties, were tainted by humility. Who would have thought that the tainting tainter would be my own body? To understand this day though, we must travel even further back to the evening of November the 4th. This night would be the instigator of the proceeding incidents. 

     I was 17 and innocent, unaware of the event I was setting into motion, predetermined by the fates. 17, innocent, and constipated is a better way of describing myself at that specific time. I went to my friend Laura's house and told her of my troubles. The reason for such a decision escapes me presently, but I'm sure it was dignified and well though out, which is certainly proven in my next course of action. After telling Laura, a powerful figure in the medical community, (PSYCH) of my ailments she prescribed to me three diuretics. Three seemed excessive to me, probably because it was and so I questioned her practice. "Nay," she responded to my query, "three is awesome, I take three all the time. It'll have you shit'in in no time bitch!" I would learn the next day that apparently Laura is a freak with the digestive tract of a Clydesdale.. or WWE fighter. I took all three, dry swallowing them, no doubt.  

And blood spewed out of my anal sphincter. The end. 

FALLACY. I jest.

At first nothing happened. I eventually left her home, the fountainhead of antidotes for all physical ailments everywhere, and went home. Once home I took care of some very important and pressing matters (drew pictures of unicorn riding snowmen for three hours) before texting Laura to tell her that her diuretics were bullshit (GET IT?!) and passed out. The next day, everything went to shit. See what I did there?

I woke up and immediately went to the bathroom. That morning I shit out my soul. I couldn't even go to school, the shit was coming out of me like lies from the mouths of highs school whores. My best friend had poisoned me. At around 3 o'clock, the shit discontinued the striking of the fan and I was able to go out... or so I thought. I chose to go to the music store to purchase a ukulele. Why, I don't know and doesn't matter. Once I was inside of the store, happily observing the lovely ukulele's on display, I felt it coming.  The holy-est of shits. And before I could believe what my body was proposing, it happened. That's right comrades, I shit myself in a music store in front of about 2-3 people. I managed to shuffle my way to the lavatory where I cleansed my disgraced self and disposed of my tainted panties. 

And that's the story of how I shit myself at a Melody Music while holding a red ukulele inquiring a stranger about its tuning. 

Now look at this picture of a mysterious lump my friend found on her leg: