Mozart Would Love This Shit
I don't like scatological humor but I do feel obligated to take note of the incidents that happened today at lunch; we went to Shanghai Dumpling House, despite the fact that it's impossible to get a table there on a Sunday, and we lucked out-- we were only fifteen minutes early but it was raining and there were a few noobs hanging around that didn't realize that you could go inside before the place opened and a get a handwritten number scrawled on a scrap of paper, as a "reservation," and so Alex went in and got #9, and he counted the tables and thought we might get seated in the first round, depending on the breaks, and we did-- we got the last table, the weird one to the right of the door, by the drink cooler; this table is pretty much inside the kitchen and you can see the old ladies rapidly making dumplings as you eat; Catherine came with us and she was perplexed and amused by the reservation system and the complete insanity surrounding the restaurant as we ate-- the place was packed, there was a big line, and people were jammed everywhere; we ate a lot of food: various dumplings, spicy pork noodle soup, soup dumplings and some kind of sliced beef wrapped in a scallion pancake with plum sauce and Ian was trying to finish off the last steamed juicy bun but he took a bite and then flipped the dumpling the wrong way and the pork meatball fell out, bounced off his plate, and rolled onto the floor . . . and that's when the silliness began; Catherine started singing the "on top of spaghetti" song about the itinerant meatball, Ian joined in, Alex expressed complete embarrassment and said, "Can you guys stop? I'd like to come back here, it's my favorite place" and then Ian saw where the meatball landed, under the table, and said it looked like a "little poop," and so I ushered everyone out-- as I'd like to return as well-- and Ian looked up the lyrics to the meatball song on his phone and sang it in the car-- which really impressed Catherine because she thought he was doing it from memory (she was driving) and then Alex and Ian recounted their "ten favorite poops," including Taco Bell poop, liquid poop, sharty poop, and ten pound elephant poop . . . and then Catherine added seepage poop and we finally arrived home and I was able to get away from the scatological humor, which is more appropriate for Mozart and the Germans, who both find that kind of filth funny.
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9 comments:
Fucking noobs. I'm glad this story didn't end like my story about Mr Chow's in Brookline--I've kept a towel or blanket in my car ever since.
go onnn
C'mon. Surely I've told that story before?
(This is where SoD fans are supposed to beg "Pleeeeeeease zman tell the Mr Chow's story!")
So back in 2008 or 2009, zwoman and I had been drinking a lot of beer and eating a lot of bar food because we were working towards getting our mugs at The Lower Depths. That's a whole other story. We got the mugs but we must've gained 6 to 9 pounds in the process so zwoman convinced me to go on this cleanse she saw at Whole Foods. It involved taking various gigantic capsules filled with milk thistle or wheat germ or whatever the hell plant matter contains lots of fiber. You took the green ones in the morning and the blue ones at night. These things cleaned you out. My bowel movements were like the Foaming Pipe Snake commercial--voluminous, fast-moving, cohesive, cleaning.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8H7r1c6Tp88
We did this for something like 14 days. You had to avoid eating greasy foods because mixing grease with the Pipe Snake was like putting water on a Gremlin--the instructions didn't say what would happen but they strongly discouraged it. On the last night of the cleanse we decided to treat ourselves to Chinese food at Sichuan Garden (zwoman says it wasn't Chef Chow's), which is the only decent Chinese restaurant in Boston (if you're from the NY/NJ area and expect, for instance, lobster sauce to be cleanish/white and not brown).
We ate a lot and it was greasy. On the way out the door I knew I was going to have to move my bowels when I got home but it didn't seem urgent. And we just had to get a block down Washington, make the left on Huntington, then left on Mass Ave and left onto Westland. This is twelve minutes tops.
We're halfway down Huntington and I suddenly have stomach cramps. By the time we're at Longwood I have to shit. And we're hitting lights, the timing is perfectly awful. We pass the MFA and I'm dying. God grants mercy on me and we get the green light onto Mass but then he screws me and we just miss the green to make the left onto Westland, which means I have to wait through a cycle of Westland cars AND Mass Ave cars going straight.
I have never had to poop as badly as I did at that light. My entire GI tract was convulsing. My body was propped up straight at a board with all my weight on my foot on the brake. I was yelling "AARAAGRRHGAA!" Zwoman was yelling "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod areyouok areyouok?!?" I simply could not shit myself in front of my girlfriend but this turd was coming very soon.
The light turned green and I tore across Mass Ave onto Westland and as I was no longer proppped against the brake my sphincters weren't as tight as they could be. I realized I was going to shit myself as I turned onto Edgerly, the street behind zwoman's building, and I honestly considered throwing the car in park and dropping my pants and shitting under a tree in the courtyard of the nursing home on the other side of the road.
But I couldn't do that. As I pulled up to zwoman's back door I felt everything cut loose. I was simultaneously relieved and agonized--the Foaming Pipe Snake was out of my colon but it was in my pants. I yelled at zwoman "GO GO GO GO GO GO!" as if we were storming the beaches of Normandy. With a wild and fearful look in her eye she jumped out of the car, which may or may not have been moving.
I turned the corner onto Norway and parked my car in the space between my building and the nursing home. Without exiting the car I took my pants and underwear off and slung the dirty drawers out of the door. I put my pants back on, all without my ass ever touching the seat. I should've been a gymnast.
I went in the side door of my building and prayed that no one would be using the side stairway. I walked up the top floor and went in my apartment. I took of my jeans and put them in a plastic bad. I took a shower and put on new clothes. I went back downstairs with the bad of shitty jeans and retrieved my shitty drawers and put them in the bag too. It was garbage day so I tied the whole thing off and put it in a random garbage can on the street. I then parked my car in a legitimate spot on the street.
Zwoman called shortly thereafter to see how I was doing. I apologized for shitting in front of her. She didn't realize I shat myself, of course, because it happened right as she was throwing herself out of my car (and because I have awful luck). So I told my girlfriend that I shit my pants, in her presence, for absolutely no good reason at all.
She still married me so I guess it worked out in the end. Moral of the story: don't go to Sichuan Garden on the last day of the milk thistle cleanse.
And I can say without hesitation that that was the biggest shit I've ever taken.
milk thistle poop! my kids are going to love this story . . .
especially:
Without exiting the car I took my pants and underwear off and slung the dirty drawers out of the door. I put my pants back on, all without my ass ever touching the seat. I should've been a gymnast.
i assume the youtube video is you shitting your pants?
but i'm not going to check.
It's the Foaming Pipe Snake ad!
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