Human Feces Makes for an Effective Bargaining Tool (Or My Roomate is Either Insane or Gay) (661 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 0.07 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Adam Leathertramp <adamleathertramp.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2008-04-14 15:39:23 EDT
Last year I lived in an apartment with roommates of varying levels of sanity. This story is about Mark, who was certifiably crazy. This generally made for an enjoyable time since there was rarely a day that went by that was too boring. However, on one such occasion a line was crossed and a series of events managed to scar me for life.
It all started on a calm, low-key Friday night. The weather was bad and most of our friends and acquaintances were predisposed. This meant no party, the bars were bound to be dead, so we were left to our own means to have some semblance of fun. That night, Mark and I gathered our troops A.J., who was always up for some mayhem; Zak, a Jew; Jim, a rather quiet and low key baseball player; and a random assortment of slutties and acquaintances.
We decided on drinking wine that night, but not just any type of wine mind you. We cleared Kroger out of their stock of Paul Masson wine, a cheap concoction that managed to "get the job done" rather well. Paul Masson bottles do not have a cork or any of that high class jazz like most wines. Paul Masson is bottled in a carafe, a bottle with a large bottom, a thin neck and a slightly larger head. After the store, the wine bottles were unloaded onto the table. We had the wine, we just needed a drinking game. Beer Pong seemed the obvious collegiate choice, however, all we had at our disposal was two Ping-Pong balls and no cups. It was than that we made the fateful discovery that a Ping-Pong ball, if bounced just right, would drop into the bottle just perfectly. It was not an easy shot by any means, however, the ball would drop. And as such, a drinking game was born.
The game was played with the carafe's half full and all were huddled together into the middle. Every player had a carafe that was theirs and if someone shot a ping-pong ball into your carafe, you drank the contents. The two balls were always in play, so whoever recovered a ball got the shot. This made for the funnest part of the game, because you could have a basketball-esque block out for the ball after every shot.
The game was played for nearly an hour, with all of chugging half a carafe of wine about every so often. Sometimes you could have a 15 minute break, other times you would drink your wine, only to have another player shoot a Ping-Pong ball into your carafe on the very next shot. It fucked us all up pretty good, yet Mark seemed to be bearing the brunt of the burden. The wine was cleared out in less than an hour and the wine had not quite had its full effect yet.
Most everyone started to clear out as we no longer had any liquor left, however Jim, Zak and myself were still sitting around the table, having one of those drunken conversations that is just as retarded as it is rewarding at that moment. Mark disappeared at this time. presumably to pass out, puke or start attempting a booty call. We continued to talk, the wine slowly creeping its way into our blood system. Zak decided to leave and only Jim and I remained. We were about to call it a night, when, Mark reappeared.
Mark had went from wearing jeans, a polo shirt, and shoes to now wearing only his boxers with hearts on them, white ankle socks and a white, red and blue snow hat that said "I LOVE SNOW" and had a little ball attached to it. The wine had obviously affected Mark. He stumbled into the room asking,
"Wher diid eberybody gooo??? Les fuckin parddy sum more, yeah?"
Jim and I laughed.
"Was so fundy, ya fuckers?"
"Mark, Jesus Christ. You're fucking hammered."
This seemed like a fair statement at that time. It was at that moment that Mark decided if I was no longer going to drink, I might as well touch his penis.
He came at us like a banshee from hell with his penis unsheathed and a grin on his face that reminded me of Jack Nicholson from The Shining. Jim and I ran for the door where it would surely be safe outside.
"C'mon just touch it dude. Don't be gay, just touch me penis!" Mark exclaimed.
I lit a cigarette, contemplating what the fuck I was going to do. I did not want to touch Mark's penis, yet I was getting rather drunk and wanted to just pass out. Jim gave me a sorrowful look and stated that he was going home because this situation was quickly getting "fucked up". Great. Now I am one on one.
As I finish my cigarette I hear yelling, crashing and general commotion inside my apartment. I reach to open the door only to find I was locked out. I look in the window to see Mark had smashed our coffee table into the wall and was swinging one of the legs around the room like a caveman. Fuck. I knock on the door.
"Wathefuk you wandt?" Mark shoouts.
"Dude, let me in."
Silence and than an evil laugh.
"Ya gonna hafta touch me wiener fisrsdt. Hahahahahah!"
"I'm not touching your penis dude. Don't be gay, just let me in and we'll drink some more."
This seemed like a reasonable request. It was a lie, as I was frightened, drunk and tired but it was necessary.
"k. les drink sum more."
Mark had bought into the drinking more idea even though he hadn't made the connection that all the alcohol was consumed at this point. The door opened and I dodged past Mark who had his penis in one hand and a table leg turned club in the other hand. He was chasing me in the apartment and I managed to reach my room and slam the door shut.
I was safe.
Mark did not like this new development.
"Dude, cmon, les drank mores man. You promist!" He made a valid point, I had promised him to drink more.
"Fuck off dude, you're being gay and I'm going to bed."
Problem solved.
And than Mark spoke clear as day, with a determination I had only heard when he was trying to get a girl to sleep with him when she clearly was not interested.
"If you don't open the door, I'm going... I'm going to shit on it."
No way.
"Dude if you shit on my door I will fucking kill you"
"5..."
He couldn't really do it.
"4...3..."
"Mark, c'mon, don't shit on my door"
"2..."
There's no way he would really do it... right?
"...1..."
"...Mark, c'mon man..."
And that was when I heard it. It sounded like a bad, juicy fart. I opened my door and Mark was standing there, ass cheeks spread wide, boxers down to his ankles and he was laughing like a maniac hyena. Brown, wet, smelly shit was spread on my door like a monochrome Pollock painting.
The smell, the sight, the memory will haunt me forever as I look back I will always remember what he said to me as I stood there mouth open in horror and the the look of realization in my eyes as I began to comprehend that the Pollock on my door and floor was in fact Mark's shit...
"You should have touched my penis when you had the chance."
I guess I should have.
User Reviews
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-04-15 10:26:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
haha, i LOLed at work.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:55:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Everybody's life is terrible.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-15 04:14:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Drinking games fuck people up.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-04-15 03:55:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
calm, low key friday night?
Sounds like you got it going on
Submitted by deej_deej (user info) at 2008-04-15 03:31:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That was fucking funny
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2008-04-14 22:19:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I've always found drinking games to be fucking inane. Anybody that needs that kind of excuse to drink has no right drinking.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:57:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by jigglypuff (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:49:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I actually laughed out loud!
That's because you are a fucking imbecile.
Submitted by jigglypuff (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:49:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I actually laughed out loud!
Submitted by whiskey_jack (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:19:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Best drinking game. Several teams of two are each given about 4 mint candies and try to whip them into a drawer from across the room. Whoever gets in most wins, and the losers take as many drinks as there place(aka 3rd place drinks 3). It's fast. It's fun. It's Throwing Shit in at a Drawer!
Submitted by MrsKitty (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:09:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Diiiiiiiiiiiiiirty.
I would like to rate this higher but I don't like poo :(
Submitted by Rhymenocerous (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:07:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I think your roommate is insanely gay and has a boycrush on you.
Submitted by PepsiCoke (user info) at 2008-04-14 16:04:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I like to wear a elaborate Jar Jar Binks costume and mask as part of my every day life. I went to the grocery store and saw how depressed everyone was, so I thought I would help. I started dancing in the aisles and yelling at people and running up to people and taking things out of their cart. It was great fun. Then when I went to check out, there was only one lane open and a long line. I screamed and screamed while in line and danced, bumping into other people. I opened a box of baking soda and threw it around. Finally, I got to the checkout. I started making noises at the cashier and I kept pressing buttons on the computer. Some people in line were groaning because the line was getting very long, but that gave me even more incentive to make them laugh. I climbed onto the table and started kicking peoples groceries on the floor and singing. The manager and one of his goons pulled me off and said I could never shop there again. Can I sue for harassment or possibly assault?
Submitted by hidden101 (user info) at 2008-04-14 15:47:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
GREAT STORY