Mon Dieu

There goes not a day when I am behind the wheel in which a fellow motorist would pass me immediately after driving behind me for three seconds. They would then proceed to signal switching, pass me and then go in front of me with their hand outside their window with their middle finger firmly posted up.

However a few nights ago that was not the case. After chilling out at Braums for about two hours I had pigged out on two double dip cones for four dollars. Being lactose intolerant, ice cream has a strange random factor to it in the relationship between the toilet and my butt. Sometimes it'll be a regular anaconda. Sometimes it would be like a rapid fire vulcan cannon from an Apache Helicopter. So about another hour after that, I really had to drop a deuce. So, I was smashing my accelerator through the floor of my car to go home. After stopping at every red light and crying out to Jesus, I finally made it back in time.

Now that I think about it. There has never been a time where my cries to the Lord have been unanswered. Actual, physical cries. Cries from my mouth, in which are usually followed by a train of profanity and expletives describing my situation. The direness of the situations are subjective. However, to me they were the most dire of dire events.

Psalm 22:5(NIV)
⁵ They cried to you and were saved;
in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

There was another time within last summer that there was a similar situation. I skateboarded to the park to work out on the playground since I'm too lazy to drive to school...even though it's like ten minutes away...if I hit every stoplight.

So, I was at the playground alternating between dips and pull ups. However, I was breathing incorrectly, and I did not realize it until I just finished... I started seeing blue spots and had trouble breathing. That's when it hit me. I had to go to the bathroom, and it would be an upside down volcanic session.

So I forced myself onto my skateboard and pushed about four times before I nearly collapsed and laid on the side of the sidewalk. Fully under the impression that my death was imminent I did not want anyone to know I crapped my pants messily right before then. This was a delicate operation. I couldn't wait too long or I'd deuce my pants. If I pushed too hard, I would faint and then decorate my pants with shi*boop*. A balance to achieve neither from above was required but was a must.

So I prayed to God, with all my might, did a man-roar to God and tore my clothes. I clenched my butt together to prevent any eruptions. I got on my skateboard and pushed about another eight times before I collapsed once again. I shaved my head with grief, said another prayer and pushed about another four times and collapsed. I got on my skateboard and poured oil over my head and skated one last time to collapse in the grass of my front lawn and just waited.

Coincidentally, my dad was working on the roof that day and saw me. After staring at me peculiarly, he went back to hammering. Practically kicking every door in on my way to the toilet I sat on my throne and let myself reign.