posted on Nov, 14 2005 @ 09:56 AM
I usually try to avoid Port-O-Potties at all costs, but on Saturday during my weekly golf game I had no choice. I was playing a links style course so
there was basically no trees on which to relieve myself. Then I saw it, a POP calling my name. Little did I know of the wretched smell that lie
within, a smell being made worse by the steaming hot Texas sun the POP was baking in.
So I go in holding my breath, not aware yet of the foul stench that had enveloped me. I've done some smoking in my life so the amount of time I can
hold my breath is somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen to twenty seconds. That's not nearly enough time when one has to expell a six-pack. I
finally run out of breath and take a new breath. Jesus Mary mother of God that was the worst smell ever in the history of smells!! It was
It can't get any worse you say, oh yeah it does. I turn to the right and happen to gaze in to the toilet and saw something so gross that when coupled
with the smell started making me dry heave. So because my right hand was occupied I use my left hand to throw open the door to let some fresh air in.
I didn't care that people were looking in at me. I finish and step out, eyes watering, shorts unzipped, and unaware of the mess I had made on myself.
I didn't find it nearly as funny as the rest of my foursome found it to be.
What the moral of this story? I don't really know but they have to find a more powerful deodorizer to put in these things damnit. God that was