If you're my Facebook friend, you know of my basement bathroom troubles. If not, prepare for a disgusting story. Oh, and if you're eating, you may want to skip ahead to Jerk of the Week No. 2.
I had a housewarming party three weeks ago. I had beer pong set up in my basement, and some people who stayed over ended up sleeping down there. Those people must have used the bathroom because on the following weekend when I had a few people over for my birthday, one guy pointed out that the toilet was clogged.
I went to investigate. The toilet looked clear to me, only the water was a lot higher than usual. I didn't understand why it was clogged; there wasn't anything else in there besides the water.
I grabbed a plunger and thrust it into the toilet. I plunged with all my might, but the water just wouldn't go down. After a few minutes, I gave up and decided to just call the plumber on Monday.
The following day, my parents and my uncle were over. My uncle was checking out my house for the first time, so when he walked into the basement bathroom, he immediately came out holding his nose and said, "Looks like someone from your party threw up in the shower."
That didn't make any sense. No one I had over the night before got very drunk because we went out to the bar after an hour or two. No one who came back to the house was drunk at all; let alone went into the basement.
My dad walked into the bathroom and yelled, "There's s*** all over the toilet too!" He grabbed the same plunger I used the night before. As he plunged, the crap went down into the toilet and up into the shower. The stuff on the shower floor wasn't vomit; it was poop!
I just want to say, congratulations to the person who was able to clog my toilet so skillfully. I say this is more impressive than Randy Marsh's crap. Sure, Randy's poop was bigger than Bono, but Randy certainly didn't make s*** come up through his shower.
I posted this on Facebook, and people had fun at my expense. For example:
Brandi: S*** happens!
Awesome Kelly in Arizona: Brandi and I will come over, so we can get s*** faced!
Brandi: Walter, you're in deep s***!
John: Look on the bright side, at least Big Ben didn't rape anyone in your bathroom.
Brandi: What a s***ty friend. I hope whoever did this is reading this and feels like a real turd.
Kelly: No s***, mang
Josh: It's kinda funny cause I took a s*** in your upstairs shower, but someone beat me to the basement toilet. I was hoping to s*** anywhere in your house that I could find a drain.
Brandi: This situation sounds like s***ty workmanship.
Josh: Hey Walt... S*** happens.
Kelly: Gives Joshua an F in originality
Josh: My comments are original as s***!
Kelly: Agree to disagree. when in rome.
Josh: Hmmm... Quoting Happy Gilmore and Anchorman and criticizing me on originality?! This s*** won't stand! I killed a man with a trident!
Brandi: Where did you get your quotes Joshua? The toilet store? Badda boom badda bing...there's a couple puns in that one. Holy s*** I'm on fire today!!!
Alex: Hahahaha walt , time to move again... I always knew that your part of America was the sh*thole of the U.S.
Brandi: Boy, that escalated quickly... I mean, that really got out of hand fast. How does it feel to be number 2 Joshua? Bwahahahhahahahah number 2.
See what I mean? I called the plumber on Monday, and he came by later in the week. It turns out that in addition to the massive s*** someone took in my basement, there was a crack in the pipe underneath my driveway, so they had to dig that up and fix it. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to take a shower at all or flush the toilet more than three times a day until they finished their job.
Luckily, everything is fixed now and I can finally take showers again. If Brandi is reading this, I bet she's thinking, "Walt doesn't smell like s*** anymore!"
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Borat Hater
Sticking with the s*** theme of Jerks of the Week, I couldn't swim Wednesday night because some kid pooped in my gym pool.
I'm not sure how it all went down because they closed the pool before I got there. Unaware of this, I changed in the locker room and walked toward the pool deck. The Russian swim coach (who coaches the swim lesson brats) warned me by yelling, "ZEE POOL IZZ CLOZZZED!"
My lifeguard friend later told me that they found poop in the pool. Wow, I guess the Russian coach really worked those brats so hard that one of them actually s*** himself. Or perhaps someone just tossed a Baby Ruth bar into the pool.
Disappointed that I wouldn't be able to work out until the following week (preseason games), I slumped into the sauna. Based on all of my experiences at the gym - including nearly being eaten by two fat women recently - I should have known better.
The sauna scene seemed innocent enough. There was only one guy in there. He looked like he was 20ish, and seemed like he was half Asian and half Russian. I didn't put much thought into it and sat down on the bench. A few minutes later, he broke the silence and said that he was new to this gym. In case you're wondering, I did not warn him about my experiences. There was no point. He already paid for a membership, so I'd let him narrowly escape the jaws of the fat ladies in the pool for himself.
It took me a few tries to understand what this dude was saying. He had some very weird accent. I asked him where he was from, and the following conversation ensued:
Sauna Dude: I am from Kazakhstan. I move here months ago. Very nice, do you like? I like! (OK, he didn't say those last seven words).
Me: Nice! I heard of Kazakhstan. Have you ever seen the movie Borat?
*** Sauna Dude gets a serious look on his face. ***
Sauna Dude: Oh, no. Never see Borat.
Me: Borat was supposed to be from Kazakhstan.
Sauna Dude: No, iz not right.
Me: What do you mean?
Sauna Dude: Borat no from Kazakhstan. He from Romania.
Me: Umm... I've seen Borat a few times, and he's definitely from Kazakhstan.
Sauna Dude: All American think Borat from Kazakhstan. Iz no good. Borat from Romania.
Wow. I wonder if everyone from Kazakhstan is in denial about this. I'm pretty sure I heard that the Kazakhstan government banned that movie from their country. If they're dumb enough to do that, it wouldn't be surprising if they told their citizens that Borat was some Kazakhstan imposter who was really from Romania.
If anyone from the Kazakhstan government happens to be reading this - a long shot, I know - you are aware that Borat was just a fictional movie, right? It wasn't real. He's not from Romania. He's not from Kazakhstan either. He's a Jewish guy who pretends to be from Kazakhstan to make people laugh. Stop being tyrannical douche bags, and learn to appreciate some self-deprecation.
At any rate, my conversation with the newly dubbed Borat Hater continued...
Me: So, what are you doing here? Are you in America for good?
Borat Hater: I am exchange student.
Me: Oh, where do you go to school?
Borat Hater: I go to Kazakhstan University.
*** Hmm... I wonder what sort of SAT scores and extra-curricular activities you need to get into there? ***
Me: No, I meant where do you go to school in America?
Borat Hater: I no go to school in America. I work construction here.
Me: I thought you had to go to school here to be an exchange student. Where are you doing construction now?
Borat Hater: I no do construction now. Job over.
*** OK, so this guy is an exchange student who doesn't go to school, and a construction worker who doesn't really do construction work at the moment. Very interesting. ***
Borat Hater: Do you know anyone who hiring now?
Me: Hiring? Not really. It's a tough economy.
Borat Hater: Yes. I know America have... uhh... critics?
Borat Hater: Uhh... crisis? Iz right word, crisis?
Me: I guess.
Borat Hater: Yes, America is crisis, and I do not have job and no have money. Can you please find someone to give me job?
*** Are you serious? You can barely speak English, you hate Borat, and yet you beg some random dude you met in the sauna to get you a job? Really? I think it's time for me to leave. ***
Me: I gotta go...
Borat Hater: Will you be here next week? I need job to make money.
Me: Umm... I might be here next week.
Borat Hater: Good. I wait to see if you can find job for me.
Ugh. I would have told this guy that I wouldn't be able to find him a job, but he looked like he was going to cry.
Anyway, I reached out to shake hands. Instead of normally shaking my hand, he grabbed my hand with both of his, and bowed down to me like I was some sort of king.
Now I feel bad. I'm not going to be able to find this weirdo a job. He's going to be waiting for me at the gym next week completely hopeful that I'll have something for him. I'm either going to show up empty-handed, or I'll completely avoid going to the gym all together. Either way, Borat Hater will remain jobless and poor.
Assuming I can't magically find this immigrant a job in the next couple of days, he'll probably be deported back to Kazakhstan. I can see it now - fueled by his hatred toward me, he'll start a Web site called KazakhstanFootball.com. He'll have a Jerks of the Week section, where he'll talk about how much of a douche I was.
But hey, at least I won't be his Jerk of the Year. I'm sure that'll be reserved for Borat.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Pepsi Throwback Nightmare
My sister bought me the best gift ever a couple of days ago. Was it a new computer? Nope. A new car? Better. A lifetime supply of Cheetos? Nom nom nom nom. Believe it or not, her gift tops that.
She gave me an 18-pack of Pepsi Throwback! If you remember, I ranted about Pepsi discontinuing Pepsi Throwback a few months ago. I guess Pepsi executives were reading that Jerks of the Week entry, because they've finally brought it back!
I wasted no time and chugged a can of Pepsi Throwback before dinner. It was awesome. The fat ladies in the pool could have eaten me at that moment, and I would have been fine with it.
That night, however, I found myself in BJ's Wholesale Club. I noticed a 30-pack of Pepsi Throwback, so I took it to the register and paid for it. However, I decided that I needed more.
Leaving my case against the wall, I scoured the shelves for Pepsi Throwback, but didn't have any luck. I did notice a couple of Encyclopedia Brown books for sale. These would have intrigued me if I weren't desperately searching for more Pepsi Throwback. Sorry Encyclopedia, I'll have to help you solve the Case of Bugs Meany's Disgusting Sneakers some other time.
I looked and looked, and only spotted one bottle of Pepsi Throwback. I ventured into the backroom, where I noticed that a BJ's employee was smashing bottles of Pepsi against the wall!
Me: What the hell are you doing!?!?!?
BJ's Employee: It's OK man. These are just regular bottles of Pepsi; not Pepsi Throwback.
Me: Phew. That's a relief.
BJ's Employee: Yeah, I'm not stupid enough to destroy bottles of Pepsi Throwback.
Me: Speaking of which, do you have any Pepsi Throwback back here?
BJ's Employee: Nope, we're all out. Sorry man.
Me: S***! I saw a bottle out there. I was hoping you'd have some more.
Noooooooo!!!!!!!!!! I went back and looked, and sure enough, it was a damn bottle of Diet Pepsi Throwback.
At that point, all hope was lost. I decided to check another store, so I went back to the front to retrieve my original case of Pepsi Throwback. Unfortunately, it was gone. I raced up to the cashier.
Me: Where is my case of Pepsi Throwback?
Cashier: Someone else bought it.
Me: Someone else bought it!? But I already paid for it! You saw me pay for it!
Cashier: Yeah, but they decided to pay more for it than you did. Sorry!
I woke up in a sweat. I sat up in bed, relieved that it was only a nightmare. I shook my head and said out loud, "What the hell is wrong with me?"
Now, a few days later, I've come to terms with my dream. Was it a little nuts? Absolutely. But considering all the pressure I was under from the clogged toilet, the poop in the shower and my quest for finding an illegal Kazakhstan immigrant a job, I'd say that nightmare was pretty normal.